


Lady of the Manor

by marvel_and_mischief



Category: Pedro Pascal - Fandom, The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Character Death, Death Threats, Description of a dead animal, Descriptions of Blood, Descriptions of murder, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Loss of Virginity, Marriage themes, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining, Smut, So much angst, Threats, Threats of Violence, Virgin Reader, descriptions of death, handjob, lovemaking, two people with feelings being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27210883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief
Summary: You are the only daughter of Lord Edward of Clun, unmarried and living in the manor you grew up in, using your wealth and influence to help those less fortunate than yourself. A chance meeting with Pero Tovar sets you both on the same path.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	1. Part I

The chatter of cheerful children caught your attention as you looked up from your muddy hands, spying the source of the sounds. Braids were flying around youthful faces, chubby fingers were tickling sides. You guffawed at mothers attempting to calm the squeals of delight and tame unbridled excitement. 

The sun was shining high in the blue sky, giving a false sense that the warm months were not behind you. A rare day of brightness whilst the air bit at your skin, making bumps appear and your hairs stand on end. 

You envied the children in the village working up a playful sweat whilst your fingers held dirt under the nails from pulling up the vegetables you needed for supper tonight. Alice, your closest friend and only working member of your household, nudged you in the side as she pulled the final wild carrot out of the ground. 

“I will start preparing these for supper. Did you want anything made for dinner this afternoon?” Alice stood, taking the two baskets of vegetables with her towards the house.

“No, I think I am accompanying my Father into town.” You smiled kindly, Alice replying with a nod before disappearing.

You turned back to the children, watching as they began to disperse into their respective homes. Probably to help their mothers prepare dinner, you thought. 

“Milady.” You heard a polite whisper to the side of the house. You turned slowly and saw a boy, no older than ten, approaching you timidly. You flashed him your friendliest smile, motioning him to come closer.

“And who might you be?” Instead of answering he dropped to his knees in front of you, and for a moment you thought he was being overly polite before he rested his closed hands on your lap. He looked up, his eyes wide with apprehension. When you nodded, he carefully unclasped his hands to show you a small chick, newborn you guessed, its eyes closed, fur matted and making no noises.

The boys mouth started to tremble, as though opening his hands opened up the upset once more. You noticed for the first time the streaks under his eyes where his previous tears had carved a path on his dirty skin. 

You moved slowly to cup your hands underneath his so you were both holding the deceased chick.

You spoke as softly as you could to the quietly mourning child. “Tell me what happened.”

He took a deep breath before speaking, as though physically pulling in the effort from the air. “My hen laid five eggs. But this one was poorly when he hatched.” He swallowed the lump building in his throat, trying hard to suppress his upset in front of you.

“And what of the other chicks?”

He began to nod enthusiastically. “They are growing big and strong. But he wouldn’t get better. And then this morning he wouldn’t wake up.” He sighed in defeat and you soothed the backs of his hands with your thumbs whilst you thought of what to say.

“I am sorry for your loss. But you have four chicks to look after now. And if you do it well, they will keep growing into very fine chickens in the future.”

The boy, whose name you still didn’t know, pondered over your words whilst staring at the chick.

“What do you think we should do with him?” You asked. He looked at you in confusion, as though he hadn’t considered that he would have to do anything with it. 

You looked around you at the dirt you were kneeling in. You noticed a patch off to the side where nothing was growing and pointed to it. 

“Shall we bury him?”

“My daddy says that animals have no souls so they don’t need to be buried like people do.”

You hummed in agreement, not wanting to deny the common beliefs that most people in the village held. But you could see his eyes keep shifting to the dirt you had pointed to, torn between wanting to bury his chick and not understanding why he should want to.

“It may be a nice thing to do though?”

You could see him thinking it over, his teeth nibbling at the skin of his bottom lip. Having made a decision, he stood up and walked to the patch you had previously pointed to. Following behind him, you began to scoop up the dirt, creating a hole twice the depth of the chick (you didn’t want errant foxes smelling the chick and digging it up at night). 

You looked up at the boy from your knelt position and gave him an encouraging smile.

He placed the chick in the hole and helped you cover him up, the excess dirt creating a small mound above the flat ground. 

“There. Now you have said goodbye you can focus on the chicks that are thriving.”

You didn’t expect the arms around your neck, your legs giving in underneath you until you were sat on your bottom. You returned the hug before he scarpered off quicker than you could blink. 

“Milady, your father wants to set off soon.” Alice’s voice startled you from the moment.

“Coming!” You scrambled to your feet, looking around to see that the boy had completely disappeared. You chuckled to yourself and walked inside.

-

The manor you had grown up in was humble by King’s standards but vast compared to the one room shacks that the village people lived in.

he ground floor consisted of an open hall for visitors to wait in, a dining room, the kitchen that lead to a pantry, and an entertaining room with a hearth and chairs where your father and you spent most evenings after supper. 

A wooden staircase lead to three bedrooms, yours being to the back of the house, overlooking the river at the bottom of your garden and affording you a view of the town walls that enclosed the castle in the near distance. 

Although you could hardly forget your fortune, giving your surroundings, you were not one to take it for granted. You refused to throw your money at dresses or trinkets or flaunt your wealth, unlike the Ladies you saw in town. Instead you did all you could to ensure the villages under your care were always comfortable and well fed, sharing your food in the evenings whenever possible or paying to have clothes altered for growing bellies and growing children.

Your father met you at the bottom of the staircase just as you were walking through the entryway, wrapped up in a wool cloak and a thick scarf. His face was old and kind in the way you always remembered your father to be. His eyes had dulled over time however, through the hardships of rising taxes and starving villagers, through losing a wife and bringing up a daughter on his own. Yet he still remained mild mannered and generous to all. 

“Alice says we have enough vegetables to share with the village tonight.”

You nodded your agreement, noticing a distracted tone to your father’s voice. He was fiddling with the loose ties on his cloak, not meeting your eyes as he spoke.

“I think she is making a stew. That always goes a long way,” you responded, ignoring the uneasy feeling in your gut that told you your father had something on his mind.

You grabbed your own cloak from the hook next to the door, wrapping it around your shoulders before following your father back out to the front of the manor and towards the stables at the side of the house.

“Do you think we should invest in a carriage?” You asked, to fill the silence more than anything. Your father was being less conversational than usual and you were never one to be meek. 

“Why would we waste money on a carriage?” He turned to you with mock outrage as he opened the stable door.

“I just mean…” you pursed your lips, contemplating how to word what you wanted to suggest. 

“I am getting old.” He met your look of dismay with a wink, walking a chestnut coloured horse out of the stable by the reins. 

You distracted yourself from your father’s amusement by walking out your own horse before hauling yourself up onto the saddle.

Your father, despite his age, had already easily settled himself on his horse without needing your help.

“Clearly you are still as youthful as the day I was born.” You clicked your tongue to tell your horse to move forward, hearing your father do the same behind you. 

“I wonder sometimes if I have allowed you to be too honest in your opinions.” His playful tone made you chuckle. He was probably right. Not everybody liked your honesty and cheekiness. But you could always be yourself around the people who loved you.

“A carriage would be better for you now the days are getting colder, is all.” 

You looked over your shoulder to see your father give a shrug. “Maybe you are right.”

“It is something to think about.”

Your father was the most important person in your life. Not only have you seen men younger than him die of a chill in the Winter months, icy, uneven roads cause horses hooves to slip and throw their riders off their saddle. If you could reduce that risk by making your father travel in a carriage instead of riding horseback, you were going to encourage it. 

But for now, you will enjoy your trip to the marketplace.

-

Pero was gritting his teeth in pain. He had rolled his shoulders countless times on the journey from the port. William had insisted on only stopping once the sun began to go down to gain as much traction as they could. Which meant a sore neck and achey limbs and, worst of all, a grumbling belly. 

“ _Amigo_ ,” Pero whined once again, closing his eyes for a brief moment of respite against his blurry vision. “We have passed many taverns and now all I see are trees.”

The Irishman chuckled at his companion’s frustration and pointed up ahead.

“I see smoke. There is sure to be lodgings there.” 

Pero muttered something unintelligible under his breath and guided his horse into a faster trot despite his thighs protesting at the movement.

His mind conjured up images of a hot fireplace to soothe his stiff, painful bones, and warm, spicy mead to relieve his cold chest and food; he thought of crusty bread rolls and steaming piles of broth with chunky vegetables and thick pieces of meat. 

His belly rumbled loudly, making William howl with laughter.

“My distress is not for your amusement,” Pero complained, deliberately turning away to concentrate on the smoke in the near distance.

William had the good mind to stay quiet after that, only speaking up once they had reached the outskirts of a small village.

“I don’t see a way around, Pero,” William muttered in thought. The two mercenaries made a habit of avoiding villages and small towns like these, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. The bigger towns were easier to hide in, often not the most unusual looking men who travelled through them.

Pero looked around. They were standing at the top of a small hill overlooking the village that formed a barrier between them and the town they were heading for. A worn path in the grass would guide them through the middle, passing up to twenty small houses that the villagers lived in, and leading to a Manor at the top of the village. 

The sun had almost completely gone down and the candles in the windows of the Manor looked homely and welcoming. Pero briefly wondered what it would be like to call a place like that _home_ , to have the same bed to sleep in every night, to always have a fireplace to keep him warm, to not have to be dirty and in pain the way he was now. 

“What do you think, Pero?” Pero grunted, looking to the forest that surrounded the village.

“It will take us twice as long to go around.” If he were a lesser man he would be pleading with William to spare him the longer trek, but he was leaving it up to him.

William knew his companion better than he’d admit. He knew what Pero was really saying.

“Fine, we go through. I think I see a road to the side of the big house, that should lead us to the town.”

Pero might have smiled in relief if he had the energy. He followed William down the hill and through the village.

But as soon as they reached the first set of houses Pero was immediately on high alert. Most of the village seemed normal; clothing hung on lines to dry, tools were sat on benches to be worked with, chickens clucked and goats bleated, but there were no people.

No babies crying, no children laughing, no married couples fighting or old women singing or men working. It was eerily silent.

William glanced over his shoulder, his hand slowly creeping towards the hilt of his sword on his belt. Pero did the same, masking his movements by shifting his weight, noting the numbness in his buttocks. He hoped to God he wouldn’t have to fight anyone, he didn’t think he’d win in the state he was in. He wished he had shut his mouth and let William take them through the forest to town instead of thinking of his empty stomach.

As they got closer to the manor house they heard noises. Had the village been ransacked and now the thieves were hitting the manor? Had the peasants decided on a revolt against the Lord? 

Without warning William halted his horse just past the last house as he watched an elderly gentleman walk out of the manor house. His knee length blue robe with the intricate white detailing told William he was the Lord of the house. The horse whinnied, alerting the Lord to their presence. 

“Gentlemen, are you travelling through?” His voice wasn’t accusing, or even suspicious, as the two men would have expected, but welcoming, his friendly smile putting them at ease.

“Aye, we are looking for lodgings in the town, Milord.” William was always the go to man for approaching strangers or alleviating potential conflict, whilst Pero hid himself in the background the best he could, his standoffish demeanour and scar across his eye often making people feel uncomfortable.  
He sat on his horse, head down whilst William spoke.

“We assumed the best route would be the road running along the side of your Manor.”

“Ah,” the Lord agreed, nodding in the general direction of the road next to the stables, “yes that will take you to it. Are you hungry?”

At that, Pero’s head automatically looked up at the Lord, for the first time noticing the smells of food wafting out of the front door of the manor. 

The Lord laughed heartily at Pero’s reaction, raising a hand towards the house.

“You are both welcome to join us. We share our food with the village when we can. Another couple of mouths will be no trouble.” 

William turned to Pero, raising a questioning eyebrow. _What do you think?_ Was the question, and Pero’s response was to widen his eyes and shrug his shoulders as if to say _it can’t hurt to eat this wealthy man’s food before we journey on._

With a charming smile William nodded his gratitude to the Lord, climbing down from his horse to tie it to the side of the house.

“We thank you Sir for your generous offer. We have been riding since noon.” 

“Please, call me Edward. My daughter and I try to help as many people as we can.”

As they continued talking, Pero jumped from his horse with a grunt, tying it next to William’s before following them into the house.

Pero felt his face immediately warm up when he stepped through the door. His stiff limbs began to loosen and his body sagged in relaxation. There were children sat on the steps of the staircase eating chunks of bread, playing games and singing songs. 

Edward lead them to a dining room, an oak table sat in the middle, a small fireplace was lit against the far wall. Most of the seats were occupied by women, their husbands occupying the edges of the room as they ate and conversed about their work and families. 

At the head of the table you sat, a spoonful of stew halfway to your mouth when your eyes caught on the newcomers walking into the room. The one stood with your father was tall, handsome, light hair overgrowing but smile pleasant and clearly grateful as he kept thanking your father for his hospitality. 

The other man was the complete opposite, but you found your eyes watching him for longer. He wasn’t as tall but he was built outwards, clearly a strong, fighting man. His hair was darker and you saw him shaking it out of his eyes in annoyance. That made you smirk.

His eyes fell to you eventually and you gave him a warm smile, which he didn’t return. Instead he nodded sharply and narrowed his eyes at you when you refused to look away.

You wanted to get to know him, which was a thought you had never had before. You didn’t bother yourself with men, especially dirty unshaven ones, but something about him intrigued you and you needed to satisfy the curiosity inside of you before he left after supper to never be seen again.

You kicked at the chair to your right until it was away from the table, quickly lowering your eyes to it before returning them to the stranger, an invitation for him to take it. He looked to his friend, who was still in deep conversation with your father, and sighed, making his way over to you. 

As he was doing that, you reached for the ladle of the stew and poured a generous amount into a clean bowl, setting it down with a chunk of bread in the spot the stranger was now sat at.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, only glancing at you briefly before hunching over his food and tucking in.

“What’s your name?” You asked after his tenth bite of food. This man must have been famished by the way he was greedily slurping his spoon and scooping up the meat and vegetables with ripped bits of bread.

He cleared his throat before answering. “Tovar,” he pointed to himself, “William,” he pointed to his friend. 

You sat and observed, your bowl of food long gone cold as he set about wiping his bowl clean. 

“You can have more if you’re still hungry,” you assured him, about to take his bowl to refill it before he beat you to it. When he sat back in his chair after refilling his bowl to the brim, he looked around the room for the first time noticing some of the villagers staring in his direction, clearly disturbed by this stranger taking a _second_ bowl of food. 

You noticed his discomfort and copied his actions, filling your bowl with more stew and throwing him another chunk of bread as you took one for yourself. 

“So what are you doing here?” You asked, hoping to distract him from the eyes around the room.

“Travelling through. Looking for work and a place to stay before we move on.” It was the most you had heard him speak and you could finally hear a thick accent in amongst a deep, gruff tone. 

“What kind of work are you looking for?” You enquired. If there was any way to help your new friend find work in the town you would try. You had seen men like him, travellers, wanderers, those that couldn’t keep still for whatever reason, get hit hardest in these colder months when work was harder to find. He would struggle to find anything the further North he travelled where the towns were spread out more. 

He paused at your question, wandering whether to be honest or evasive. You seemed like a wise woman, the fact you hadn’t shied away from him and instead went against everything _ladylike_ to invite someone like him to your table, in the seat next to you, told him you were unlike most noblewomen he had met. Still, he had manners.

“I can… fight.” He shrugged and went back to concentrating on his food.

Your mind was working like a spinning wheel, turning faster the more you thought about what the town could offer him and his friend. 

“You know, more and more men are being sent to fight in the King’s Crusades-”

“I do not want to fight in the _damned_ Crusades,” Pero’s tone made you flinch, his interruption catching you off guard momentarily. You quickly looked around and saw that, thankfully, he hadn’t been too loud in expressing his distaste at your suggestion. 

“Forgive me. I only meant that the castle has been losing guards. Maybe you could try there.” Pero sighed. He hated the way your tone had shifted from one of friendly rapport to stiff noblewoman. He mentally kicked himself for jumping to conclusions. 

“No,” he began, pushing his now empty bowl away from him to give you his full attention. “Forgive _me_ , Milady. I have met men who have been left with nothing because of your King’s Crusade. I want no part of that.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded in understanding. Pero had obviously been through more than you could imagine. 

“The castle.” He nodded with determination, and you smiled at the content look on his face. The food had done him good, you could see it in the way his back was straighter and he held his head higher, his right hand resting on his healthy belly. 

You chanced a smile in his direction, which was briefly returned, so quick if you had blinked you would have missed it. You were thankful you didn’t blink. He glanced around the room, and you realised he was looking for William. 

“I think my father stole him away. Probably to his private room across the hall.”

Pero stood from his seat, about to turn away in search of his friend before remembering himself and giving you a curt bow of the head. 

“Thanks… Milady.” You felt a pang of disappointment at that. You hoped your own informality towards him during supper had broken the need for social etiquette but you didn’t realise you cared _this much_ what Pero thought of you. 

You offered him your name, your real name, reserved only for family and close friends, despite already knowing Pero wouldn’t use it. But it earned you an appreciative smirk and less formal nod of the head, before your eyes trailed him out of the dining room.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Richard visits and father has news.

The following morning was spent going house to house, checking in on the villagers you swore to take care of as Lady of the manor. A widow needed help gathering wood for her fireplace and a new mother required materials to make new blankets for her baby (instead you took a couple of your own blankets from your room and gifted her those). 

Mostly people wanted to simply talk to you. _How was your father? Have you still not found someone to court? Nevermind, I’m sure you’re busy taking care of your father. Thank you again for supper last night. Who was that man you were talking to? I’d be wary of him if I were you._

You were fortunate you had your father’s patience when it came to the villagers. They meant well but it could be draining answering the same questions over again.

The gossiping about the two strangers was new however. It wasn’t unusual for you or your father to invite travellers to share supper, but none of them had caused such a stir as Tovar and William had the night before. And you could understand why.

William had been refreshingly conversational, not just with your father. Alice had a spring in her step early morning when she had set breakfast down on the table. When you pushed for the reason behind her giddiness, she had told you about William spinning tales of his extravagant travels across the seas, enthralling her in his wit and charm. 

Whereas most of the young women in the village agreed with Alice, the majority had warned you of the dark and brooding man you had invited to your table. If you were a harsh woman you would have told them to mind their businesses. Tovar had been pleasant enough company, polite for the most part, understandably reserved given you were both complete strangers to one another. If anything it was you and your small blunder that had caused awkwardness.

When you went to join your father for dinner in the afternoon he was nowhere to be seen. Knocking on the door to his private room his voice called you in.

The largest fireplace in the manor (save for the kitchen) sat against the wall of this room, directly opposite the door. It was roaring even this early in the afternoon, meaning your father planned to spend most of the day in there. 

Your father sat in one of the two fancy leather armchairs in front of the fire, one of the very few indications of your wealth. They had been your grandfathers, the arms and seats worn down to an off-white over time, a contrast to the reddish brown of the rest of the chair. 

He had a book resting open on his lap and as you walked closer you could see it was the records book that your father used to keep a trace of how much money was being spent and on what. 

“Is there a problem?” You asked, pointing to the book.

“No, no. Just keeping an eye on things. Sit, I want to talk to you.”

You did as he asked, crossing your legs at the knee, a nervous energy overcoming you as you tapped your fingers on the arms of the chair. Your father eyed your actions.

“No need to be alarmed, I’m not marrying you off just yet.” The wink he sent you did nothing to abate the butterflies in your stomach. You know your father would never do that, but he was never formal about wanting to talk to you unless it was something he thought you would disagree with. You crossed your arms and waited.

“I am going to London tomorrow. Only for a few days, no longer than a week I hope.”

You frowned at your father’s carefully constructed tone. It wasn’t unusual for him to have to go to London. He would sometimes need to show his face at the court of the Prince regent, a physical sign of support to the King who was in another country raging a war no one asked for. It was politics, one in which you hoped you wouldn’t have to be a part of for some years to come. 

“Will I be coming with you?” You asked. He had never invited you, knowing your opinions on the matter. You didn’t fancy being paraded around as nothing but a pretty thing, being forced to the side of the room to talk to Ladies you had nothing in common with. You would put up with it if your father wanted you there though.

“No that won’t be necessary. But I do not want you left unattended.” 

You raised an offended eyebrow at that. 

“I am sure not to bring the house into disrepute in a matter of days. I would need a week at least.” Edward scoffed at that.

“No, it isn’t that I distrust you, my dear. It is him I do not trust.” 

_Ah_ , you thought, _Lord Richard_. On the other side of the town was a village, not dissimilar to your own, although a little bigger. The Lord of the manor there was charming in a way that made your skin crawl, his innuendoes and suggestive looks made you want to throw yourself into the nearest damp, dark well whenever you were in the same room as him.

As soon as you were of marriageable age he had pursued you like a dog on heat. For years now you had declined his advances, and every time you had rebuffed his proposals it had only spurred him on to want you more it seemed. 

“I have not seen him for over a week. Maybe he has finally given up on me.”

Edward shook his head. “I heard he has been busy in town, that is why he hasn’t sought an audience with you.” 

“Still, I can handle him.”

“I am not risking it. I don’t want my absence to encourage him.”

“So I _am_ coming with you then?” The court in London suddenly became desirable when the alternative was Lord Richard knocking on your door everyday knowing your father wasn’t there to deter him.

“No. What did you think of that man you had dinner with last night?”

You opened your mouth to respond but found nothing coming out. You didn’t know what to think of the odd question and instead wriggled uncomfortably in your chair.

“I had dinner with most of the village, you will need to be more specific, father,” you tried to distract him from the fact you knew exactly who he was talking about, uncrossing and crossing your legs.

“The man who came in with William.”

“What were you and Willian speaking about last night? You brought him in here didn’t you?”

Your father looked exasperated and finally stood up, placing the records book on the side table and stepping closer to the fire to warm his hands.

“I have asked if the two of them would keep you and the house safe whilst I am gone.”

“Oh,” was your only response. You weren’t exactly _opposed_ to the idea. Your father was good at reading people, if he thought this William man could be trusted then you were sure Tovar could be too.

“Would they stay here?”

“I said they could set up beds in this room. They have the fire to keep them warm, and they would hear anyone riding up to the front of the house. But only if you agree.”

You thought it over. On the one hand you wanted to get to know Tovar more, and you cared that this would give them more money than guard work at the castle. On the other hand you didn’t like feeling as though you were a child needing to be nannied because of Lord _bloody_ Richard and his childish inability to accept ‘no’ for an answer. 

You definitely wanted to spend more time with Tovar.

“It sounds reasonable enough.” Edward nodded in agreement, stepping closer to place a hot hand on your forehead. Your closed your eyes at the affectionate touch.

“Good, I am glad you agree. I would hate to argue with you.” Your eyes shot open to see your father’s amusement on his face. You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand away before taking your leave.

-

As a child you had often heard your father discreetly whisper the phrase _‘if you speak of the Devil then he shall appear’_ to you when he had spotted someone he didn’t particularly like. You would muffle your giggles in your hand and Edward would hush you gently. As you got older, instead of speaking it he would give you a look that you knew meant he was thinking it as he was forced to exchange pleasantries with uptight nobles.

You had never given much thought to the phrase until you were sat at the dining table moving around your selection of cheese and cured meats on a plate with a fork, a simple supper whilst your father was still preparing for his trip in the morning. Sat opposite you, slurping on a goblet of wine, was Lord Richard. One conversation about him and he appears the same day, sweaty from his ride and insisting he see you and refresh himself before returning to his manor.

You refused to speak, hoping your disinterest would encourage his leave but alas, he was not easily deterred from your rudeness.

“I would like to begin with an apology,” his dark beady eyes never wavered from you, “I have been rather preoccupied within the town walls to find the time to see you.”

 _And it was the most peaceful week of my life so far,_ you thought before painting on a tight smile.

“Really, there is no need to apologise to me. I have been rather busy myself.”

Richard sniggered at that, finishing off the last of his wine. 

“What keeps you so busy, Milady?” He asked in a patronising tone that made your jaw tick. There were so many things you wanted to respond with but you knew his temper, had been on the receiving end of it many times when you hadn’t bit your tongue quickly enough.

“I have the villagers to take care of for starters.”

“That is Sir Edward’s responsibility-“

“And he appreciates my help.”

“You know, if you were to be my wife you wouldn’t have to do any of those things.”

A laugh escaped you at that, thankfully not sounding too impudent. You caught Richard looking hopeful before your laughter, but he immediately schooled his features back to his usual blank expression. 

He pushed his chair back, the wood scraping harshly along the stone floor, refilling his goblet with wine and making his way over to lean beside the fireplace. The orange flames flickered and shone in his dark eyes, reminding you that the devil lurked within. 

His generosity always held an underlying warning, his kind words hid darker messages underneath. He would bring you necklaces and books but it was always with the expectation that each new gift would wear you down a little bit more until you gave into him. 

You had seen the way he whipped his horse into submission, how he would snatch rings off villagers fingers if they didn’t have enough coin to pay their taxes. You didn’t trust a man without compassion. 

“Why do you find that funny?” His impatience was evident in his tone and the way his grip tightened on the goblet until his hand was a few shades lighter from the pressure. You had to be careful how you replied lest he launch that same goblet in your direction.

“I simply don’t know why being your wife would make a difference in how I conduct myself during the day. I would still help people, they would just be in your village instead of this one.” 

You looked down at the cold food in front of you, deciding to occupy yourself with that instead of looking at Richard. You sent a silent prayer that your father would change his mind and come to have supper with you. Lord Richard was always careful to be respectful of your father, seeing as he was trying so hard to marry you. 

“You would be busy with our children.” You were fortunate not to have any food in your mouth because you were certain you would have choked on it. The thought of having this man’s babies filled you with disgust. You disguised your discomfort well, standing from your seat and giving Richard a wry smile. 

“I find myself unable to eat this evening, I think I will retire instead.”

Richard sighed, knowing your tactic well. It wasn’t the first time you had tried to leave his company. But he was too tired this late in the evening to put up a fight. “Then I shall take my leave. I will be sure to seek an audience in a day or two, Milady,” he warned.

As you led him out of the dining room and to the front door you remembered your new companions for the week, almost smiling at the thought of Richard’s face when he saw Tovar’s fierce scowl and domineering presence the next time he visited.

At that, you gave Richard a genuine smirk, a polite nod and opened the door for him to leave.

“I look forward to it.”

-

“I cannot believe you are making us do this,” the Spaniard grumbled, halting his horse in front of the house the following morning, this time having been officially invited. 

“I do not understand you sometimes,” William huffed in amusement, leaping off his horse. “You get to sleep in a warm home and eat good food three times a day, how are you still so unhappy?”

Pero replied by shoving William towards the manor after climbing off his own horse. 

“And the coins the Lord is offering to simply keep his daughter out of trouble,” William shrugged in defeat, “well, it is the easiest job I have ever been offered.”

“That is my point,” Pero shook his head, lifting his bags off his horse as he did, “she is smart, that much I know. Why does a smart woman need us to look after her?”

“She is a noble! If the wrong person knew she was alone they could take her as hostage, wring the Lord of all his money, he cannot risk that.”

They stopped at the oak door of the manor, William raising his hand ready to bang loudly.

“If I die here I will haunt-“ William banged on the door then, three times, giving Pero a mischievous smile. William had witnessed how you and Pero had conversed at supper, he had no doubt that his companion would stop whining once he relaxed in your company once again.

The door opened slightly, Alice’s sweet face peeking through the gap she created, beaming when she recognised William’s friendly grin.

“Alice isn’t it?” William questioned, and Pero gave him an unconvinced look, knowing well enough that William never forgot a woman’s name, that’s why he was so well liked. 

“That’s right,” Alice beamed, opening the door fully and stepping to the side. “Sir Edward is in his private room with Milady, I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.” As she scurried away to go through a door on the far right, the two men waited just inside the door. 

“Do you think there are monsters here too?” Pero’s question made William bark out a laugh far too loud for the quiet of the manor, receiving a scornful glare from him. “Do not laugh at me.”

“Stop worrying,” William said through laughter, which promptly stopped when Alice returned.

“Come with me,” she waved the two men over, leading them through into Edward’s private room.

Although William was the first to step into the room, your eyes searched for the Spaniard. He nodded at you politely, standing straight with his hands clasped in front of him. He looked wary, as though he didn’t want to be here which hurt you more than you’d admit. 

You were shifting from foot to foot in the middle of the room, your arms crossed underneath your bosom. Your father, dressed for the cold in his cloak, scarf and gloves, was a step in front of you.

“Gentleman, thank you for keeping to your word. This is my daughter,” he turned to his side to give them a view of you, as though presenting them with a prize to be won at a fair, and spoke your name, “you take your orders from her.”

Pero’s eyes resisted from looking you up and down as he wanted to, instead he remained stoic, focusing on the pressure of his thumbnail digging into his palm to calm his heightened nerves.

“Nice to meet you at last Milady. I am William and this is Tovar.” You already knew this but you smiled tightly, not wanting to be rude. 

“As you understand, you will receive your coin when I come back. Until then, if you need anything at all, my daughter will be the one to ask.”

“Milord your carriage has just arrived,” Alice called from the door.

“Do you need help with your bags, Milord?” William asked, pointing to three leather bags at Edward’s feet.

“Please,” your father replied, leading him out.

An awkward silence fell once you and Tovar were alone. You relaxed your body, letting your arms dangle at your sides, and you noticed the man in front of you following the action carefully.

“Pero,” was all he said, letting his own hands unclasp, trying to make the tension roll off him. 

“What does that mean?” You ventured, relieved he was finally speaking. You had left the supper the night before not quite friends but not enemies either. You were worried you weren’t going to be able to get along this week and that was far from what you desired.

“It is my name. Tovar is my family name, you can call me Pero.” 

“Pero.” You tested the name on your tongue, realised it felt less harsh than ‘Tovar’ did, and smiled, grateful that he trusted you with his given name.

“I should bid my father farewell. And then I shall give you and William a tour of the house.”

“It is so big I need a tour?”

Your laugh was hearty. You weren’t used to people talking back to you, they usually accepted when you said something and replied politely. Even Alice didn’t question your decisions. You saw Pero realise his mistake, eyes widening a fraction, before he cleared his throat. You interrupted him before he could apologise.

“We can’t have you getting lost and accidentally entering my room.” You kept your face expressionless, waiting for his reaction. You wanted to see how quickly he would get comfortable in your presence, if your goal of getting to know him would be worth it or if he was too used to being polite in front of nobility that he wouldn’t risk improperness with you. 

For a second you thought you had taken things too far, had tried to cross the invisible line too soon in your meeting, had offended him perhaps. But you saw his lips quirk up ever so slightly and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“That would be unfortunate indeed.” His voice was low and raspy, spoken only for your ears in its cheekiness.

_It did things to you._

You cleared your throat as you felt heat rise to your cheeks, heat that was flowing in other places as well. You nodded politely, rushing to the door as casually as possible. If you didn’t leave the room now you were going to make an embarrassment of yourself.

-

You kissed your father on the cheek and stepped back from the carriage he was sitting in.

“Stay safe, please father. Those roads are dangerous.”

“Oh my dear, you worry too much.” Edward shook his head at you, but you could see the seriousness in his eyes as he spoke. “Make sure you have one of those men with you at all times.”

“Father-“

“Humour me just this once,” he pleaded, your stubbornness faltering under his gaze. 

“Fine,” you nodded, reaching over to hold his hand that was resting on the window of the carriage.

Edward thumped the roof of the carriage with his hand and the driver motioned for the horses to move forward.

As you waved to your father, you couldn’t help the feeling of nausea creeping into your stomach, of something not quite right worming its way into your gut.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pero comes to the rescue when Lord Richard takes things too far

That feeling of doom didn’t go away over the next couple of days. You showed William and Pero around your home, set their beds up in front of the fire, informed them of the times each day that food would be served (Pero looking particularly pleased at that). But whilst doing all of that, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

Pero noticed this one morning after breakfast. He found you sat on a bench outside, sewing a hole in a pair of socks. You hadn’t spoken with each other past pleasantries at the dining table. There wasn’t an awkwardness, but with William always in the same room as the two of you, it was difficult to be informal. 

You smiled up at him as he strode towards you. He was wearing less layers today, the leather jacket you were used to seeing him in had been taken off, a more comfortable loose, brown tunic the only layer keeping him warm. Your eyes lingered on the v of the shirt that showed a sliver of chest hair before you realised you were staring. If Pero noticed, he didn’t say anything (he noticed).

“You are supposed to tell me when you want to leave the house,” he chastised. He was standing so close you could feel the warmth of him along your side. You instinctively leaned closer to him. 

“I have hardly left my house,” you scoffed, demonstrating your point by reaching back and knocking on the wood of the window behind you. Pero raised an eyebrow and sighed.

“That is not the point-“

“I know,” you grinned. Pero watched as you used your teeth to tear the thread you were using to stitch the fabric, tie a knot in it and place the needle carefully in a small wooden box with the rest of your sewing equipment. You folded the pair of socks together at the opening and offered them to Pero. “When you took your shoes off I saw they had some holes in.”

Pero’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the socks in your hand. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so thoughtful for him, so _selfless_ without wanting anything in return. He hesitantly took the socks and ran his thumb along the seam that you had sewn and it reminded him of all the clothes his mother had patched together because they couldn’t afford new fabrics. The seam on the socks was imperfect, more jagged than what his mother would have allowed, but done with just as much care and love. 

You sat patiently as Pero observed your work. It wasn’t unusual for you to do these things for the villagers, but the way Pero was turning the socks over in his hand made your heart burst with pride. You hadn’t thought twice when you had seen him wearing them the evening before, as he was sitting in front of the fire, toes curled against the flames as you brought him and William extra blankets for the night. It was an afterthought of _‘I need to sew those in the morning’_ and wanting to keep your mind busy from your worries. 

“Thank you, _buena dama_ ,” he whispered sincerely, clearing his throat to show you a quirky smile. Being grateful wasn’t something he was used to, but he would try, for you.

-

Pero was able to show his appreciation later that day as he accompanied you to the marketplace. He refused to let you carry your basket filled with food, despite your protests that you could carry it yourself. 

He followed behind you, giving you enough space that you didn’t feel like he was breathing down your neck, but sticking close enough that he could jump in to help you if you needed it (and coincidentally smell the lavender soap in your hair). 

As you were rounding the corner of a butchers shop you stopped in your tracks, making Pero bump into your back. 

“Milady-“

“Shush,” you ordered, putting a hand up to prevent Pero from saying any more.

He followed your line of sight to a horse as black as night, whinnying loudly at the end of the street, a dark, brooding man sat atop him. 

Pero leaned down to your ear and whispered, “who is that man?”

You would have been blushing at his proximity if you weren’t so concerned with the man you were staring at.

“Lord Richard,” you turned your head to reply, “he is the reason my father hired you.”

Before he could reply you were pushing at his chest, moving the two of you back around the corner. Up ahead, Lord Richard was beginning to turn his horse in your direction.

“I will not let him hurt you,” Pero insisted, and without thinking he grabbed your hand and quickened his pace.

“I am not concerned with him hurting me. I hate talking with him.” You looked down to your hand in his, squeezed tightly as you were dragged into a nearby tavern. 

Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark room, only a few lanterns lighting the area. The smell of mead hit your nostrils unpleasantly. 

“Pero I cannot be seen here,” you hissed, bringing up the scarf around your neck to cover the lower half of your face. Pero turned to look at you in confusion.

“I am a Lady,” you said, as though that answered his silent question. 

“Go and sit in the corner, I will bring you a drink,” he instructed, pointing to the far corner of the tavern where no light from the lanterns reached. You huffed in defeat and followed his orders. 

As you made yourself comfortable you observed as Pero conversed with the tavern maid who was filling up two tankards with mead. The woman was beautiful, long red hair ending in ringlets either side of her large breasts, which were on full display. Her charming smile was outlined by rosy, pink lips. A hard, sick feeling settled in your stomach at the sight, and you realised Pero had probably been in this tavern the first night he arrived in town, most likely stayed here the nights before he came to work for you. You frowned at how easily Pero smiled with the woman, a pleasant smile you had yet seen aimed at you. 

As he brought the drinks to the table you tried to look disinterested in the exchange, taking a large sip of your drink as a distraction from your unwelcoming feelings. You were _not_ going to be jealous of a tavern wench. 

“If he comes in here he will not see you,” Pero explained. You had almost forgot why you were in a tavern in the first place. You nodded and placed your tankard on the table. 

“So,” you began, too many questions in your head and not knowing which one to start with, “where did you travel to before you came here?” You had nothing better to do after all, you might as well try and get to know the man that held your life in his hands.

A twinkle appeared in Pero’s eyes, an excitement you didn’t think was possible in this grumpy Spaniard. He cleared his throat, wondering how to explain his recent adventure to you.

“The far east. William and I had travelled further than we thought possible. We had heard stories of riches beyond our imagination. If we could just get to this one place, collect our treasure and sell it to the richest of men, we would be set for life. No more mercenary work, no more worrying where to rest my head every night. I could buy a house! Imagine that.”

This was the most you had heard him speak and you were completely enraptured. Your head rested on your hands, eyes never wavering from his, listening intently to his tale and his beautifully smooth, husky voice in the quiet corner of the tavern. You felt like a child listening to a bed time story, you forgot about everything except the man in front of you. 

“I would never be hungry or cold again.” 

“What happened?”

Pero’s eye twitched at the memories, his smile faltered and he took a large swig of his mead. When he looked at you again he was more sombre.

“Where we ended up was hell itself. It came down to riches or my life. And, well, the choice was down to William in the end.”

“He chose your life? Over being a rich man?” You whispered. Pero nodded his reply and downed the rest of his drink. “He is a good man.”

Pero grunted, shrugged his shoulders and sat back in his seat. 

“It sounds as though you had a lucky escape,” you said, filling in Pero’s silence as you finished your drink.

“I have had too many of those,” Pero mumbled, and you wondered then what he was living for. He clearly had no family, not a lot of money, only enough belongings to fill a single bag. He searched for riches and ended up empty handed. He spoke as though he had given up, or didn’t think himself worthy of anything more than the little he had. It made you sad.

Pero stood up then. “I need to get you back before supper,” he explained, not forgetting to pick up the basket filled with your goods from market. 

“You keep ordering me around as though _you_ are the noble,” you snarked, the grin on your face juxtaposing the seriousness of your voice. 

Pero rolled his eyes on noticing your amused expression. 

“If you stay here any longer, _Milady_ , there will be a scandal.” 

“I have a feeling you are not above scandal,” you grumbled, eyes flicking to the tavern maid with the red hair as you stood from the table. You refused to look at Pero’s look of surprise as he wondered what you meant, moving past him towards the door. 

-

You couldn’t escape Lord Richard for long. Just before supper was when he arrived at your front door, demanding to see you despite Alice trying her best to dissuade him.

“I am here,” you already sounded exasperated as you arrived at the bottom of the stairs, “you can go now Alice.” As she scurried away to finish supper you envied her ability to not be burdened by this man. 

At that thought, you wondered where Pero was. You knew William was tending to his horse in the stables, but you hadn’t seen Pero since he brought you back from market a while ago. 

Lord Richard stepped into the house, his footsteps clumsy but forceful, pulling at his gloves harshly.

“I thought I saw you in the market earlier but I lost you.” He sounded insulted, and you mentally cursed yourself because maybe if you hadn’t hidden from him before, then he wouldn’t be bothering you now. 

“I am sorry to have missed you,” you replied, not meaning a word. You attempted a smile but you weren’t sure that it was coming across sincerely enough. He stepped closer to you, backing you up until you hit the bottom of the handrail. 

“You did not tell me that your father was away on business.”

“I did not think it relevant,” was your reply, having to turn your head slightly to avoid the smell of meat and ale from his mouth. 

“You did not think it relevant,” he repeated slowly, mulling over the dishonesty in your words. You chanced a glance around the room, hoping Pero would appear out of nowhere, but you were on your own. 

Your heart sped up when Richard’s hand came into your peripheral vision, a dirty finger coming to rest under your chin to position your head to make you look directly at him. You suspected it was his way of being tender but it made your stomach squirm like a fish flopping wretchedly on land. 

“A woman shouldn’t be on her own without a man to look out for her. Anything could happen.” The double meaning of his words made you shiver. You kept screaming Pero’s name in your head as you tried to hold your head up high, not wanting Richard to know how much fear he was instilling in you. Your mind raced around the room, trying to find something you could cause a distraction with, a vase you could tip over, something to make him jump away from you, but you came up with nothing. 

Richard stepped impossibly closer, the bulge of his pants coming to rest at your hip, and it was then that you started to struggle to breathe, the reality of what might happen if someone didn’t walk into the room, or you couldn’t find a way out of this yourself, dawning on you until you felt your chest constricting dangerously. 

You could stomp on his toes but if you weren’t hard enough he would be able to recover quickly and grab a hold of you. You could scratch at his face but he was so close you would have to also push him away and in your current state you didn’t think you had the strength. 

Just as he was closing the gap between your lips and his he was thrust away from you and forced against the window opposite you. It happened fast, but not fast enough to not realise it was Pero that had dragged Richard away from you. You launched yourself forward, holding onto the crook of Pero’s elbow as he pulled his arm back in preparation to throw a punch.

“Don’t hurt him,” you pleaded, and the fear in your voice made Pero second guess what he was about to do.

“He was _forcing_ himself on you,” Pero spat as he glared daggers at Richard. His fist was shaking in anger on what he had just walked in on. 

Richard was very clearly afraid for his life, chest heaving, hands raised in a pathetic display of defence, and was he sobbing? You didn’t care. Instead you focused on the man you did care about.

“Pero he will have you hanged if you lay a finger on him.” You clung to his arm with an iron grip and gently pulled him away from Richard, pushing him carefully against the handrail you were previously held against. 

Without sparing him a glance you ordered with as much authority as you could muster, “Richard you must leave, _now!_ ” You watched as Pero’s eyes followed Richard’s movements, only turning to you when the door slammed shut behind him.

His hands reached out to softly rest on your shoulders, reminding you that he was here, his expression becoming soft and full of concern.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, not able to form the words. You didn’t realise you were shaking until you took a deep, shuddering breath. Tears started to fall, you tried to swipe them away before Pero could see them.

“I apologise-“ But Pero was having none of that as he brought you into his chest, his arms encircling you in an embrace that was more than welcome. You felt safe at last as you soaked through his tunic, his one hand stroking your hair whilst the other rubbed your back, his patience for you limitless. 

Your kindness often knew no bounds so you were glad that your father saw exactly what sort of man Lord Richard was. You were grateful he had insisted on someone keeping you safe whilst he was gone. You didn’t want to think what would have happened if you had been left on your own.

-

You were relieved to receive a letter from your father the next morning. He had arrived in London without a problem, he was already frustrated with the opinions of some higher Lords he was forced to exchange pleasantries with, but otherwise he was looking forward to returning to you in a few days. And you could not wait much longer to be in the comforting presence of your father. 

He was also excited to bring you a present he had brought, but wouldn’t go into detail about what it was. Your father would rarely buy you gifts but London was full of treats you would not find anywhere else, such as expensive fabrics, fruits not grown in England, jewels from overseas. It was the only time you would see your father overindulge, and it was always for you. 

You were heading to the private room with the intention of writing a letter to send to your father. Reaching the room you heard a grunt of irritation coming from inside. You softly knocked on the door, pushing it open enough to peak around the corner and see inside.

Pero was sat at the desk on the far side of the room without a shirt on. He was very still, you would have mistaken him for being asleep if he wasn’t sat upright. As his right arm began to move you realised he was shaving. You knew you were witnessing something intimate, usually only reserved for the eyes of comrades or wives, but you couldn’t look away from the broad shoulders and the flexing of muscles under his cautious movements. 

You followed the scattering of small scars along his back, pale against his golden complexion, until you came across a much larger, jagged mark that curved near the bottom of his back around to his side. It was as thick as a quill and white like a shiny pearl. You couldn’t imagine what kind of weapon would cause such a mark, or what kind of person would want to create a mark so destructive on a fellow man. 

You heard that grunt once more and looked away from his scars to try to see why he was struggling to shave. As soon as you were certain you wouldn’t scare him, you cleared your throat and made yourself known.

Startled, Pero dropped his razor to the floor, cursing in his native tongue before apologising in English. You finally stepped into the room to pick up his razor, noting the dented edge.

“You are going to cut yourself silly with this,” you tutted and refused to hand it over when Pero reached for it. “Wait a moment,” and with that you swept out of the room, leaving behind a waft of your flowery perfume.

When you came back you placed a new, much shinier razor into his outstretched palm with a sweet smile. “My father has plenty more.” You wouldn’t have him refusing it out of some sense of propriety, standing out of his reach, arms crossed against your chest. 

With a grateful nod, Pero went back to his work. “There is no point in arguing with you is there?” He sounded exasperated, but you didn’t take it to heart. You took a seat in the leather armchair which had been pushed against the wall, William and Pero’s makeshift beds having taken the space in front of the fire.

“Not at all. Where is William?” Whilst trying to look anywhere but at Pero, you noted William’s blankets that made up his bed were neatly folded up in a pile.

“Practising with his arrows in the forrest,” was the reply.

“This early?”

“He does not appreciate sleep as I do.” 

“When do you practise with your swords?” Your mind briefly imagined Pero’s muscles flexing and straining under the motions of sword fighting, sweat dripping down his face, breathy pants of exhaustion. Your fingernails were pressing crescent moon shaped dents into your palms as you tried to distract yourself. 

“I do not need to.”

“You don’t need to practise? You are just that good?” You knew you were beginning to ruffle his feathers when he put down the razor and turned in his chair to face you, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“William practises shooting arrows because he enjoys it, it is fun for him. I use my sword when I need to. That is the difference.” He raised an eyebrow when you only nodded in understanding. You could see now that he had finished shaving, a perfect line of moustache sat above his top lip. Even the scruff of beard along his jaw that you were used to was gone. You thought he looked handsome. 

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you, Pero.” You licked your bottom lip, your mouth feeling suddenly dry as you relived what had happened the night before. “If there is anything I can do to repay you-“

“ _Buena dama_ , I was doing what your father hired me to, that is all.” You saw something change in Pero then, a change in the atmosphere between you, from friendly quips bordering on familiarity, to a noblewoman and her servant. It was just a job to him. He didn’t _care_ as a friend would, he didn’t rush to your defence because he was concerned for your wellbeing, but because he was concerned for his position in your household. If you had been hurt, he wouldn’t have gotten paid.

And suddenly you felt so stupid for your beating heart when you were looking at his nakedness, for the heat in your loins when he smirked suggestively at you when you had insinuated he might walk into your bedroom that first time you welcomed him into this very room. 

You remembered the woman at the tavern he was so comfortable talking to and realised your naivety had blinded you to the fact that she was almost certainly intimately acquainted with him. Your jealousy was right, you would never be the object of Pero’s affection because you were a _Lady_ and he could never see you as anything else.

You feigned a genuine smile, feeling the desperate need for air before you choked or worse, cried in front of him. 

You left him to stare after you, his stoic expression crumbling for a second when he realised he had said the completely wrong thing, mentally kicking himself for not being more honest because the reality was he would have killed Lord Richard a thousand times over, because you were worth it, not because it was his duty.


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an emergency in the village and Alice swoons over William.

You were grateful to have been too busy to speak to Pero any more that day. You kept yourself on the other side of the house from him on purpose, busy with cleaning out the stables and brushing down the horses, washing your bed sheets and clearing out old clothes to give away, flitting from one room to another, not sparing Pero a glance when you brushed passed him at one point.

You would have sought out William to leave the house and go for a walk but you had only seen him for mealtimes since arriving at the house. You had your suspicions he was keeping a close eye on Alice. You weren’t complaining, if he was anything like Pero then he was a good man, and Alice _did_ need keeping safe just as much as you did. 

You had skipped breakfast to avoid Pero and was thinking of doing the same at lunch, but before the morning had ended you were alarmed to find a young man from the village rushing towards the house, slamming his fists against the door of the manor, hands caked in dirt and sweat beading on his forehead, shouting desperately for attention. 

“Please Milady, we need your help at the well!” You ran down the stairs at a speed your father would have bristled at and reached the villager the same time Pero did. The Spaniard looked ready to throw himself at the man but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Whatever is the matter Peter?” You recognised the gangly man immediately, his mother was the village healer and he had on occasion visited the manor with his mother to watch her tend to your broken bones from falling out of trees or being bucked off horses. 

“It’s Marion’s boy, he’s fallen down the well, no one can get to him!” The panic in his voice spurred you into action. Immediately forgetting your previous embarrassments with him, you turned to Pero and gave your orders.

“There are ropes in the stables, fetch them and bring them to the well.” Pero flew out of the door at your request towards the stables whilst you hurried in the opposite direction. “The well isn’t deep but it is narrow, if we can fashion a rope to pull taut around the boy’s waist we should be able to lift him up with everybody’s help.” 

Huddles of villagers were congregated around the well, some trying to calm others down, some with their heads perched over the stone wall shouting words of comfort to the poor boy at the bottom.

As you approached, people dispersed to give you a wide berth, some remembered to bow, not that it was necessary in a time of emergency. 

You peeked down the well and saw a small boy lying on the floor, curled up into a ball, shoulders shaking from his pitiful sobs. 

“What is his name?” You asked Peter who had kept close to your side ever since you left the house.

“Henry,” he replied just as Pero returned with the rope. You took it from him and proceeded to fashion the rope into something that closely resembled a hangman’s noose but looser. 

Holding it in one hand, you perched your upper body over the wall of the well to speak to the child. You felt Pero’s hand grab tightly onto the back of your dress, a precaution you weren’t going to tell him off for, despite how distracting it was.

“Henry, can you hear me?” You knew your question had reached his ears when he cautiously looked up at you, turning onto his back as he did. Your smile grew larger when you realised you knew this little boy, he was the same one whose chick you had helped bury in your garden the other day. “Hello Henry, do you remember me?”

You saw recognition shine in his eyes as he nodded. You gave him your name, trying to keep him calm. 

“Did you hurt yourself when you fell?” You would have to pull him out of the well regardless of any injuries, but you were worried the rope would put pressure on any broken bones and make things worse.

Fortunately Henry shook his head, raising one of his hands to show you red skin where he had grazed it on the stone.

“Could you stand up for me? Carefully, and let me know if anything hurts.” Your sweet voice had the desired effect as he did as he was told, shaking out his limbs as he stood and looking back up to you when he was finished.

“Nothing hurts. Can I come out now? I miss my mummy.” You heard a sob from the other side of the well where Marion, Henry’s mother, was being comforted by her husband. 

“I am going to lower a rope Henry, I need you to put it around your waist and pull it until it’s tight, do you understand?”

“I understand,” he replied politely, and you began lowering the rope and watched as he put his head through the hole and tightened the rope around his middle. 

“Good boy, now reach your hands up as high as you can and grab the rope and do not let go.” You pulled yourself off the wall with the help of Pero, and turned to the villagers closest to you. “Grab the rope and pull.”

Pero stood at the front of the rope and took charge whilst you peeked your head over the wall once more to encourage the boy whilst he was being levered out of the well.

In a matter of minutes the boy was safely pulled out and was being smothered in the arms of his mother and father, their cries of “thank God!” and “I love you” a choir to your ears. The villagers clapped at a job well done and began disbanding to go back to their work and homes. 

You untied the rope and rolled it up as you walked back towards the manor, Pero hot on your heels.

“I have seen men command armies with less efficiency and success than what you just did.” Pero’s compliment warmed you up from the inside, and you had to remind yourself not to overthink it or get your hopes up. 

You threw a shy smile over your shoulder at him. “I won’t need to leave the house for the rest of the day so you are free to do whatever you want.” You tried to be curt but it came out gentle as you always were with Pero, much to your annoyance. 

“Did you want to go for a ride later? Before the seasons change and it won’t be possible.” Pero sounded hopeful, and as you reached the house you turned and snook a glance in his direction, saw his fingers fidgeting and his eyes looking anywhere but at you. 

You wanted to say yes, everything was screaming at you to drag him over to the stables and saddle up a horse and spend the rest of the day riding through the forest with him, carefree and elated in his company. But it would feel too much like two people in love, and as much as your heart broke to turn him down, it would break so much worse when he didn’t return your feelings, and especially when it will be so easy for him to leave you behind when your father returned.

“I don’t feel like riding today,” you replied swiftly, and went in search of Alice to distract you from the pain in your chest. 

-

 _Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._ The thick butchers knife came down, carving through the meat in quick succession, speckles of blood flying in all directions, the wall, your apron. 

Alice called your name warily from where she was chopping vegetables at the table. When you didn’t respond, she raised her voice and tried again. 

“What is bothering you? Is it your father being away?” Her sweet voice brought you back out of your mind, where you had been stewing over Pero. You were regretting the refusal of a horse ride already, and the look on his face as he was asking you, you could tell it had taken a lot of effort to put himself forward like that. You wouldn’t blame him for hating you for being so cruel. 

“No, Alice,” you sighed heavily, “I have done something very stupid and I am mad at myself for it.” You placed the knife down and sat next to Alice. 

“You have always been good at solving problems,” Alice spoke in between slicing the carrots, “is there anything I can do to help?”

Her positive attitude would have been contagious if you didn’t feel so rotten inside. You shook your head and helped her with putting the vegetables in the cooking pot. 

“It is my burden to bear, not yours.” You knew how close she was getting to William, you didn’t want your feelings getting back to Pero through hearsay. 

“Have you seen William around anywhere?” The change of subject did what you hoped it would; a blushing Alice who tried to hide her quickly reddening face behind stray pieces of hair. It wasn’t working quite as well as she thought it was.

“Err- perhaps he took a trip to town?”

“Oh, did we need something?”

Her shrug was all it took to break the serious look on your face, falling into giggles that eased the tension that had previously inhabited your bones.

Alice huffed a laugh and looked at you shyly. 

“I know it is silly,” she insisted in a whisper, but you shook your head sharply, “it is, I hardly know him.”

“It is not silly to have feelings for someone, Alice,” you assured her, as much as you were assuring yourself. “The heart does what it wants.”

She saw the sincerity in your face and carried on in a quiet voice. 

“He makes me laugh so much I feel sick afterwards, and then says I have the sweetest laugh,” her face was lighting up as she recounted these moments, “and he listens to me, _really_ listens when I have something to say. Do you know how rare that is?” You agreed, you did know how rare that was. When you thought to Lord Richard and how little he cared about what you wanted or what opinions you held you knew Alice was right. It was rare to find someone who liked you for you, and when Pero had only ever been respectful to you, charming without an ulterior motive, and wanted to spend time with you just as you were, you realised you were letting the perfect man slip through your fingertips because you feared what he would choose when he no longer worked for you. 

“I like seeing him make you happy, Alice.” She sighed in relief, perhaps worried you wouldn’t approve of this budding relationship, but you had to ask if she shared in your fears. “But what will happen when he and Pero leave?”

Alice shrugged, non-committal in her thoughts about what that would mean for her and William. “I am happy now, is that not enough?”

 _Of course it isn’t_ , you wanted to say, _your heart will break and you will be sad,_ you wanted to scream, but staying away from Pero was making you sad anyway, so what was the difference? 

-

You were certain you had heard Pero’s voice as he was leaving the manor, you would know that gruff tone anywhere, and with William’s hearty laugh you had assumed they were off to a tavern for the evening. It wasn’t exactly against your father’s orders, but it was unspoken that one of the men stayed with you in the manor at all times. Still, you weren’t going to stop them. You liked the idea of relaxing in your home without confining yourself to one room to avoid the Spaniard. 

Which was why you were as shocked as you were to see Pero lounging in a bath tub next to the fireplace. The shriek you let out startled Pero enough that he shot out of the tub, enough water splashing out towards the fire to make the flames hiss and flicker low. The shadows it created kept most of Pero’s nakedness in the dark, and you were thankful for how it hid your mortified expression.

“I am so sorry-“

“Milady, I should have warned you-“

“No, I should knock in future,” you had turned your back to him, your mind torn between being polite and running from the room. 

“I am decent now,” Pero grumbled. You turned slowly, still hesitant to do so, to see he had hastily thrown a tunic and breeches on, the water seeping through and making the material cling to his skin. 

“I thought I had heard you and William leave,” you offered an explanation for your interruption, but Pero shook his head.

“He and Alice have gone for a walk.” 

“Well, I will leave you alone.” Your instincts told you to go, that this situation was improper, and quite frankly you were still reeling from nearly seeing him naked but when Pero reached out to grab your arm, his name on your lips, your fight or flight response slowly starts melting away. 

“Please, let us talk.”

“Your water will go cold.” You could see Pero eyeing the tub in question. It had been months since he had been allowed the luxury, but he needed to clear the air with you. He knew you had been avoiding him, and he feared he had overstepped in suggesting a ride alone. 

If you didn’t have this talk now, you never would. So you picked up the chair that sat at the desk and pushed the back of it against the side of the tub, directly in the middle, so that Pero could maintain his privacy but you could just see his face if you sat sideways on. 

“Have your wash and we can talk at the same time,” you ordered, sitting down with your hands clasped in your lap. 

Pero scoffed, but a smirk lifted up the corner of his lips at your instruction.

“What will people think?” Your stoic expression nearly faltered at the humour in his voice.

“Who will know?” You countered, turning your head away as he undressed. 

“You were scandalised to be in a tavern with me not too long ago.”

“That is true, but this is my home, no one should interrupt.” 

You heard the water’s movements as Pero lowered himself down. You turned yourself sideways on to look at him, his eyes meetings yours once he was comfortable. 

“I want to start by apologising for turning down your invitation this morning.” You held his eye contact, willing him to understand how sorry you were.

“People would talk, I know how important your reputation is.”

You frowned at that. It had never once occurred to you that that would be a problem. Of course it would be if people saw, but it didn’t bother you as much as it should.

“That is not why I turned you down,” you looked away then to your fingers which were subconsciously following the dents of the wood grain in the arm of the chair. You nibble on your bottom lip as you decide to be honest, damning the consequences. 

“I will not judge,” he whispered, and you saw his relaxed features, and those brown eyes gazing into yours and you knew he was being truthful. Even if he had to let you down, you were certain he would do so gently.

“I was afraid. I have come to like you very much, Pero. But I am not as carefree as Alice is with William. I worry. Not about my reputation, I am well liked in the village and most are aware of my wilfulness,” Pero smiled knowingly at that but did not interrupt, “I am scared to be free with you when you are to leave soon. I fear the inevitability of a broken heart when I have been sheltered from such all my life.”

You let out a heavy breath when you were finished. You didn’t feel the relief you hoped you would when you had bared your soul to Pero, but you were glad not to have to hold it all in anymore. 

“Do you think I am eager to leave as soon as your father has returned?” Pero asked. 

“Not eager, but is that not the plan?”

“There is no plan. William wants to see family in Ireland but I do not have to go with him.”

Your heart thudded loudly in your ears as you heard what he was saying. He might not leave, if there was a good enough reason to stay. You thought of all the times you had avoided Pero instead of making the most of being alone with him, you could have given him so many reasons why leaving was a bad idea. You were sure you had ruined any potential friendship, let alone anything more. 

On seeing your defeated expression, Pero reached over with a wet hand and covered both of yours, a hum escaping his lips.

“I have often been in your position. I have let good things slip away because of fear. And the times I have been brave I have found myself regretting it. Do not beat yourself up.” His voice had softened to comfort you, and with the fire crackling in the background and the creaking of the house settling into the cold air of the evening, you wished never to leave this moment. 

You turned your hands over and captured his hand in both of yours, leaning down to place a closed mouth kiss to his fingertips. 

“I will forget how silly I have been, and tomorrow will be a new day,” you proclaimed. As you rose your head you noticed the skin of his arm prickling from the now cold water in the tub. “You are cold.”

“I would stay here and freeze if it meant never leaving your company.” And you know now that he meant it.


	5. Part VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Richard gets desperate and Pero has a very important question to ask

Pero was accustomed to sleeping on hard, uncomfortable ground, usually in the freezing cold of the outdoors. He could will his body to sleep in any situation, knowing fatigue could be the death of him in a battle. But in a warm manor, with soft, woollen blankets and in relative safety he found sleep did not come. He was unused to comfort. That must be why he found it difficult to sleep, definitely not because he was mulling over the conversation with you. 

He turned over once again, his eyes resting on the dying embers of the fire, consciously tightening the blankets around his shoulders at the sight. As he looked over to William he let out a gasp of surprise to see the man staring back at him.

“Are you going to tell me what has you so restless this night, Pero?” The Irishman sighed, his eyebrows furrowed in agitation. 

Pero grunted, closing his eyes tightly in a show of defensiveness at being caught. 

“I will force it out of you if I must,” William promised, demonstrating his intent with a light punch of Pero’s shoulder.

Pero rolled onto his back away from William. 

“I have been thinking-“

“That is dangerous,” William interrupted, laughing at Pero’s disgruntled look.

“ _Tonto estúpido_ ,” Pero muttered. However, despite William’s foolishness, he had always been a good friend, and an even better listener. So after a brief pause Pero found the courage to continue. “I have been thinking about what I want in this life. I am fed up of being a bad person, William. And I am so tired. I had forgotten what it is to not be fighting for my life all the time. I don’t want that anymore.”

“You want to give up your sword?”

“Maybe,” Pero shrugged, thinking about hanging up his weapons once and for all, and found he wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, “not entirely. I don’t know.”

“You could do jobs like these. Keeping fair maidens safe from the clutches of even worse men than us,” William teased, but he couldn’t deny that he had been having similar thoughts to Pero. He had spent everyday in the company of Alice, helping her with tasks around the house and keeping her company. Her quiet presence and sweet temperament was starting to make him realise that maybe there was more to life than killing and fighting for his supper.

“What if we stayed?” Pero’s voice was almost inaudible, his words directed up at the ceiling instead of to his friend. It was a stupid thing to say, he knew William was the same as him, hadn’t stayed in the same place for longer than a few days since they were children. Their life was moving around, constantly leaving people behind. If he did stay, would he be able to settle? Was it actually possible for Pero to get comfortable in one place, with the same people _(person)_ until he died? What if he realised too late that he couldn’t do it? Could he leave you in the dead of night when he got too restless at the sameness every day and night? No, he couldn’t do that to you, he shouldn’t even contemplate trying.

“I have been thinking the same,” William’s response shook him out of his spiralling thoughts. He saw the honesty in his comrades face, the determination in the set of his jaw. “I want to try and be something to someone. What is the point in this life if we go through it unloved by anyone?”

“Alice is special enough to make you settle?”

William scoffed at the question, “isn’t _she_?” He asked, pointing to the ceiling in the general direction of where you slept. 

Pero nodded before he could stop himself, realising that William was right. He had to try and not screw this up because you were worth so much more than him, but you wanted him, as a friend or as something more he didn’t know yet, but he knew you wanted him to stick around and see what could happen between you. He owed it to you to give this a chance. 

“I do not know what she sees in me,” Pero muttered, shaking his head as he thought back to your lips kissing at his scarred knuckles with a tenderness he didn’t deserve. 

“So what are you going to do?” William asked, a yawn escaping him as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I will speak to her in the morning, tell her I will stay, if she still wants me to.” He would have said more but William had started snoring, and he had already kept his friend from sleep long enough.

Although the feeling of butterflies had entered his belly, he fell sleep with the ghost of a smile on his lips at the thought of possibly being happy with you.

-

You hadn’t seen Pero all morning, much to your disappointment. You had made an early trip to the houses in the village, putting together a list of things that needed to be done before the air got colder and the winds picked up. Some roofs needed thatching (you would ask Pero and William to help with that), expectant mothers needed warm blankets (Alice was a better knitter than you), fallen fences needed fixing (you had become quite skilled at that over the years). You weren’t short of tasks in the upcoming weeks, but it was all part of your role as their Lady. 

Although the manor wasn’t too large, you still couldn’t find Pero anywhere. Your feet eventually took you to the stables to tend to the horses, paying special attention to your and Pero’s mares with the intention of _finally_ taking them on that ride Pero had asked you to go on. You were determined to run head first into this friendship, take every opportunity to spend time with each other, less worrying about what the future may or may not hold for the two of you. 

You briefly wondered what your father would think of all this. You wished you had asked him of his opinion on Pero before he had left for London. He was a good judge of character, had to be for a noble. He couldn’t go through life as a kind man without knowing who he could trust and who he should keep at arms length. 

He may not agree with the life Pero has led up until now, may not like the way he is too heavy handed at the dinner table or how he sometimes forgets to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. But you think your father would overlook those minor details when you explain how he makes you feel.

You were too caught up in your thoughts, gently brushing the long hair of your horse, a soft hum of a tune on your lips, to notice the barn door opening and closing. You were in the far corner of the stable, in the shadow of the horse, when an arm came across your chest, followed by another hand clamping down on your mouth. The brush you were using fell silently to the hay covered floor, your muffled screams the only sound but they were too quiet to attract any attention.

Your back came into contact with the stone wall and the arm at your chest moved up to hold you steady at the throat, the other hand tightening on your mouth as you struggled to keep breathing steadily through your nose.

“Look at me,” an angry voice sounded from in front of you. You cautiously opened your eyes to see your attacker, Lord Richard, staring furiously at you from under a dark hooded cloak. “If you shout for your fucking guards I will butcher your horse, do you want that?”

You shook your head, whimpering at the thought. You remembered how he whipped his own horse until it bled, you didn’t doubt that he had it in him to be so barbaric. 

He lifted his fingers away from your mouth one by one, testing your promise not to shout, before he removed his whole hand. He hit it down on the wall next to your face, making you flinch. The action brought a sick smirk to Richard’s lips.

“You embarrassed me, when you allowed that man to come between us,” the hand next to your face clenched into a fist as he remembered that night. His body loomed over you more as he pressed his forehead against yours. You felt bile rising in your throat at the closeness.

“Your advances were unwanted,” your voice wavered but you still held strong, swallowing down your fear to confront him, “you had no right to do what you did.”

“I was showing you what you were missing out on. You always reject me, you needed to know that you could grow to love me.”

The fear clawing at your chest turned to an anger that matched his, your own hands turning to fists as you hit them into Richard’s chest the best you could with his arm still in your way.

“I will _never_ love you. You are a vile, beast of a man! How could I ever possibly love someone like you?” Your voice rose louder the more you spoke but you didn’t care, you were done with being the polite noblewoman you always tried to be with Richard. If that side of you didn’t deter him then you had nothing to lose by telling him exactly how you felt.

Richard was seething at your insolence, his teeth clenched as the insults penetrated his hearing. 

“You are nothing but a bully, so used to getting your own way in life because you are rich and powerful. And the moment someone says no to you, that someone _dares_ to not give you want you want, you try and take it by force. Well I will not let you. You will never have me.” 

Richard grabbed you by the shoulders with both hands and shook you, the jutted out stones of the wall digging painfully into your back.

“You will marry me. As soon as your father comes back from London I will make the announcement-“

“I will deny it to everyone-“

“You wouldn’t dare bring shame on your father like that!”

“My father will not give his blessing.”

“Then he shall never know!” Richard shouted, taking a step back from you. His eyebrows pinched together, his eyes looking around the barn as though deep in thought.

“How would he not know, you fool!” Your anger was still simmering, and with Richard not making any sense to you, you took the opportunity of being free to push him forcefully towards the barn door. Richard took your wrists in a bruising hold and dragged you to his chest.

“What if something should befall your father?” His voice was eerily calm, a seriousness overtaking his features. His dark eyes were looking into yours but he was somewhere else, looking through you whilst he concocted a plan.

“Why would you say such a thing?” You whispered, disbelieving. You shivered in horror at what he could mean, was he threatening you? Leaving you with no choice but to marry him for fear of your father’s safety? Would Richard really stoop that low just to have you?

“Just imagine,” he continued, faking pity at the thought, “you would be all on your own. And a woman in this world is nothing without a husband.” 

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to pull your wrists from his grasp but it was useless. 

“I have other prospectors. I don’t have to marry _you_.” You were lying of course, Richard was the only man to ever ask for your hand in marriage, but your heart betrayed you as you thought of Pero, the only other option that wasn’t really an option. 

Pero didn’t strike you as someone who had thoughts of marriage, too much of a free spirit. But that didn’t matter, what mattered was Richard thinking you weren’t as trapped as he wanted you to be. 

“It will be me,” he began, his fury appearing just as quickly as it had disappeared, “or I will have your home burned to the ground with everyone you love inside of it.” He paused to gage your reaction, which was to kick him in the shin and yank your hands away with such force that you fell backwards onto the ground, the straw doing little to break your fall. You shuffled backwards, away from Richard, until your hand brushed against the metal prongs of a rake. Before Richard could get the upper hand you held the rake in front of you to defend yourself as you carefully stood up.

“Get out,” you ordered, putting as much authority into your tone as you could whilst shaking. Richard huffed out a laugh that didn’t meet his black eyes, but to your relief he began to walk backwards towards the barn door. 

“Don’t say I did not warn you,” he kicked open the door and left with a wink.

You stood there for what felt like hours, but must have only been a minute as you listened for his footsteps to completely disappear, before falling back down to the floor, rake scraping against the wall before it clattered to the ground. 

Pero found you not long after, body shuddering with sobs, curled up into a ball in the corner of the barn. His heavy footsteps made you gasp, briefly fearing Lord Richard had returned, when a hand tenderly stroked your hair out of your face. 

“ _Mi amor_ ,” his soft tone was welcoming as your sobs subsided and you began to sit up. Pero kneeled in front of you, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs clearing away your tears.

“Richard,” you whispered, a word that needed no more explanation. You saw as Pero’s face changed from one of concern to one ready to commit murder, whilst his gentle touches remained the same. 

“Did he hurt you in any way?” You shook your head, despite your wrists burning from the bruises that were blooming, but you knew what he meant, after the last encounter he had had with Richard. 

“I will kill him,” Pero muttered, starting to stand up. Your hand caught on his tunic, making him pause.

“Pero, I fear repercussions if you anger him more,” your mind drifted to your father, wondering if you could encourage him to stay in London a little longer whilst you tried to sort out this mess with Richard. 

Pero helped you up, holding onto your forearms to keep you steady. You welcomed the reassuring touch, the unfamiliar warmth of his presence was so different to the familiar fear inducing touch of Richard.

“We must be careful-“

“No,” Pero said harshly, taking a breath to calm himself when he saw your eyes widen, “I will protect you. You will not leave my side until your father returns.”

You nodded, not having the strength to argue with him. If you were being honest, you didn’t want him to leave your side either. Richard had threatened to do a lot more than simply marry you, now you were worried for the life of your father and anyone else who dared to stay in your home. 

“He says he will hurt all of you if I do not agree to marry him,” you whispered, as though saying the words out loud may make them come true. 

“You think he could fight me and William together?” You sighed, realising that Pero might be onto something. You remembered the look of utter fear on Richard’s face when Pero was about to hit him, and you decided that his threats were probably empty after all. He wanted to scare you, as all cowards do when they aren’t getting what they want. 

“You will not marry that _cabron_.” Pero said with finality. He wrapped an arm around you, urging you out of the stables. 

-

Pero kept to his promise strictly, not leaving your side for anything. So much so you had to sternly remind him that he was under no circumstances to be in the same room as you when you were changing your dress after getting it dirty in the stables.

“I will turn my back on you and have my eyes closed, _querida_ ,” Pero had pleaded, yet you still insisted he stand outside the room. 

Once he had made sure you had eaten breakfast and had received no lasting injuries, you went about your day as normal. Though a heavy feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach from Richard’s threats, having Pero by your side made you feel safe enough to hold your head up high and continue with your duties.

You received a letter from your father at midday saying he would be returning home the following night and he could not wait to see you at breakfast the morning after. 

That feeling of dread eased a little with the prospect of your father coming home. 

After supper you were more than ready to retire to bed early, but a fidgeting Pero at the bottom of the stairs prevented you from doing so.

“You have kept me safe all day, and I thank you for that Pero,” you placed your hands in his to calm his nerves, “I am certain I will be safe in the night.”

“I am not so sure,” Pero sighed.

“What do you suggest? Not sleeping at all?” You didn’t realise the insinuation in your question until Pero raised an eyebrow. You giggled in embarrassment, trying to hide your face by turning away, but Pero reached out with a finger under your chin, bringing you back to look into his amused expression.

“I was going to suggest you sleep downstairs this night and the next, where William and I can better protect you.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, contemplating the idea. “What about Alice? She would be on her own upstairs.”

Pero nodded, but before he could reply a throat cleared behind you, scaring you into pushing yourself behind Pero’s right shoulder for safety. You breathed a sigh of relief when you noticed it was William that had made the noise.

“Forgive me,” he said softly, hands in the air to reassure you he was no threat, ”I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. If you want, I can take your room, no funny business I can assure you. I will be able to hear if anyone intrudes upstairs, is all.”

You stepped out from behind Pero and turned to look at him, silently asking him if it was a good idea. You had no reason not to trust William, at least from what Alice had told you of him, but you hadn’t gotten to know him. Pero gave you a subtle nod, a large hand resting gently on your back to assure you.

“That is a good plan, William.”

Shortly afterwards you had set up William’s bed as yours, wriggling yourself into a comfortable sleeping position in a pile of blankets and pillows in front of the still raging fire.

Pero lay facing you, less than a foot away. You smiled, feeling your body relax in the warmth of the room and his closeness.

“It has been a long day,” you cut through the silence that had fallen between you. Pero hummed, his hand slipping out from his blanket towards you before pausing in midair and retracting.

“What?” You asked, suspicious of his action.

He reached out again and this time followed through with his intentions, removing a stray piece of hair that had fallen down your face and slipping it behind your ear. Your breath hitched, finding comfort in the calloused fingers that showed such tenderness despite his usual heavy-handed nature. 

You bravely turned your head ever so slightly and pressed a closed mouthed kiss on the palm of his hand. You heard his breath stutter just as yours had, and you saw a flash of something cross his features. Shock? Disbelief that you hadn’t pushed him away? 

Maybe it was that look that made you do it, or the heat of the room, or your inability to breathe unless you did _something_ , but you couldn’t bear how slow things were going anymore and you moved forward and pressed your lips to Pero’s. 

His gasp startled you, but not enough to make you move away, and you were rewarded by his hand moving from your cheek to tangle in your hair to pull you into him. He reacted then, licking a strip across your bottom lip and biting gently, eliciting a light moan from you which opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to glide into your mouth. 

You took his face into your hands, your fingers exploring the rough stubble that had been growing since you witnessed him shaving it a few mornings ago. You felt his free arm reach under and wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You broke away from the kiss, chest heaving from breathlessness and lips feeling plump from the assault. 

You saw trepidation in the way Pero was staring at you, awaiting your reaction, but all you could do was smile, bright and proud that you had taken that step towards something more with him. And when it was obvious you weren’t going to react negatively, Pero huffed a laugh and pulled you halfway on top of him so you were laying your head on his chest, his arms firmly holding you in place. 

“ _Querida_ , you give this old man hope,” Pero whispered earnestly, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Now sleep, I will be here when you wake in the morning.” You fell asleep with a smile on your face. 

-

You woke up cold from the burnt out fire, and alone on the hard wood floor. Your mind still hazy from sleep, you blinked the room into view to see that it was dark, still the middle of the night. Pero was nowhere to be seen, so you collected your largest blanket, wrapped it around yourself and went in search of your Spaniard. 

The hall was quiet as you tip toed through it. You paused at the bottom of the stairs, ears cocked upwards in the hope that Pero had gone to speak to William, but there was only silence. You were about to head towards the kitchen when you heard horses neighing outside. You opened the front door to see your own horse galloping in your direction. You held a hand up, soothing sounds coming from you to calm the horse and let her know it was her owner. It had the desired effect as she slowed to a halt in front of you, allowing you to calmly stroke down from her forehead to her muzzle. 

Once you had tied her up to a hook next to the door, you hurried over to the stables. You hesitated when you saw the door ajar and voices coming from within. When you recognised one of those voices as Pero’s, you entered.

Pero was frantically stamping out a flaming torch in front of a scrawny, young man who was holding a bloody nose, hunched over against the wall and flinching at every stomp of Pero’s foot. Once the flame was out Pero turned to you and pointed to the man on the floor. 

“I heard the horses and ran out just in time to find this… this…” Pero struggled to find the word through his seething anger, eventually giving up to pick up the unlit torch and throw it hard at the culprit. 

You winced as the torch hit the man on the crown of his head. “What was he doing?”

“Trying to burn down your stables,” Pero spat and began to pace the stables. 

You walked over to the man, who was shielding his face from any further attacks, and knelt down to speak to him.

“Who are you?” You asked sternly, “show me your face.”

He moved his hands away to reveal the blood stained face of one of Lord Richard’s stableboys. His nose was at an unnatural angle and his left eye was beginning to bruise. Due to the freshness you knew that Pero had given the man those injuries. 

“Was this Lord Richard’s doing?” You asked, more softly than before. You had never met this man, only seen him at a distance, he had no reason to want to hurt you so you knew he had been put up to this. And there was only one person who had threatened you recently. 

“He- he said to burn down the stables and- and he will kill me, Milady he will-“ The man started coughing and sobbing, but you understood what he was going to say. And so did Pero.

“I should kill him, it will be a mercy compared to what Lord Richard will do to him if he returns having failed to burn this down.”

You glared at Pero, unable to see the sense in his argument. You knew he was angry, but that didn’t justify murder in your name. 

“He is right, Milady,” you turned back to the man who was trying to sit up, “I am a dead man either way.”

“No you are not,” you replied, a harshness in your tone that took the man by surprise, “you will leave through the forest, half a days walk you will come to the North road, you know it?”

“Heard of it,” the man responded with a cough.

“Follow the road north. Just keep walking, you will reach villages but they are ones not visited by Lord Richard. He will not find you. Go as far as you can go until you can no longer walk.”

The man looked up at you as though you had grown another head. “Go!” You demanded, pointing to the door where he fled as quickly as he could with the pain of a broken nose. 

“Why did you let him go?” Pero asked angrily.

“Because he is barely a man. He was forced to do this, it is not his fault.”

“He still chose to come in here with a burning torch!” 

“Pero,” you pleaded, exhausted from the day before and still registering what almost happened if Pero hadn’t stopped it, “nothing happened here-“

“This time,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his fury still simmering under your inability to see how close you were to dying.

“What does that mean?”

“You think this will be the end of it? He tries to force himself on you, he threatens and hurts you in this very stable and sends someone to burn it down, but you think he will back off now?”

“That is enough-“

“How many years has he been pursuing you? How many times have you said _no_ to him?” Pero was standing in front of you now, his voice quieter but still held the anger of a love almost lost and utter contempt for a man he hardly knew. 

“Marry me.” You blinked, despite having seen the words come out of Pero’s mouth, it took you a long time to realise he had said them. You saw no humour in his eyes, only an urgency that shouldn’t come with a marriage proposal. It should be romantic, a happy occasion, leaving you with no doubt what your answer would be. 

“What did you just say to me?” Was your response, because you and Pero had shared your first kiss hours ago on the floor of your father’s private room, and now he was asking you to marry him. You were confused and tired and wished you were back in his arms under the blankets and in the warmth of the hearth. 

“He will force you to marry him. What kind of life will that be?” Pero’s voice was breaking at the thought of you bound to an abusive, dangerous man for the rest of your life.

“Pero, what kind of life will it be to marry someone who is only doing it as a kindness?”

Pero frowned, taking a deep breath and placing his hand in yours. “You think I do not like you?”

“Do you? Do you like me enough to know you would be happy with me? Forever?”

“ _Mi amor_ , yes, I am certain of it. You are kind and thoughtful, you live your life for others and I am in awe of you for that. You just let go a man who tried to burn down your home, and I want to chastise you for it, it frustrates me how stupid that was, but it is who you are.” 

You didn’t realise you were crying until Pero was wiping away the tears. 

“I-“ Pero sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead and then your nose, before hovering his lips above your own, “do not give me an answer until you are certain. I am not Lord Richard. It is not a demand but another option for you to consider.” He kissed you, soft and quick. 

You nodded, letting him know without words that you understood, that you felt no obligation and you were thankful for him.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pero gets an answer to his question, and things go from bad to worse.

You know what you want to say. The time you’ve spent with Pero has shown you the kind of man he is and would be if you married him. He is generous with his time if he believes you are worth it, sticking by your side in your time of need has proven just that. He is protective when you cannot protect yourself, but he has never assumed that you can’t, only swooping in to put himself between you and the threat when he is certain you need it, and you appreciate that. He has always looked at you with kind eyes, even if in distrust at the beginning of your meeting, or in rage more recently, and it comforts you to know that whatever the two of you face he will never look at you differently. 

Your hesitancy only comes because of Lord Richard and the possibility that Pero never would have asked for your hand if Lord Richard didn’t exist. You knew Pero felt something for you, but is he fooling himself that it is love because he doesn’t want you tied to a man like Lord Richard? 

Your head was a mess, and it didn’t help that you were staring at the man you were undeniably falling completely in love with. You were taking a day to consider all of your options. To think about what you truly wanted. Your father should be returning late at night and you needed to have made your mind up to talk to him about Pero in the morning. 

Sat on the bench outside your manor, Pero and William were on ladders fixing the roofs of some of the villager’s homes. William was his usual talkative self, never pausing in his work to talk to Pero or a new friend. Pero spent more time anxiously watching you, keeping you safe from afar, than doing any work. 

You kept your hands busy, sewing a name into a handkerchief for a new baby in the village, looking away only when someone walked too close to you. You were a little on edge since the almost fire the night before. You wouldn’t put it past Lord Richard to visit you and make a scene in front of everybody, but to your relief the footsteps usually belonged to a playing child. 

“Will we be feeding everybody tonight?” Alice’s gentle voice asked, peeking over your shoulder at the handkerchief. 

“I think we will wait until tomorrow night. It can be a welcome feast for my father,” you didn’t mention that you felt safer with your father near when you invited people into your home. Alice sat down next to you, a comforting arm pressed against your own. 

“Good idea. Are you well this morning?” She asked, her eyes focused on William who had noticed her appearance and had adjusted his position on the ladder to see her more easily. 

“I have a confession, and when I tell you this Alice, you must contain yourself, especially in front of so many prying eyes,” you cautioned her, the look you gave her was stern enough that she knew you were serious. She nodded, curious, and turned towards you in anticipation. 

“You can trust me,” she promised. You could, but you also knew how excitable she could be.

“Pero has asked for my hand in marriage,” you braced yourself for her reaction, which came in the form of a small squeal, like a little mouse, before she clamped a hand around her mouth. Her face was lit up in such excitement you expected her to burst, but she pulled herself together just as quickly, taking deep breaths and placing her fists in her lap. 

“I am calm,” although she was not, “I am so happy for you!”

“Alice, I have not answered his question yet,” you admitted, feeling bad that Alice was probably already imagining the entire occasion. She gasped and looked at you as though you were mad.

“Why? Do you not want to?”

“I do,” you said, swift enough that you realised you meant it, “I am hesitant, is all.”

“It is a big deal to tie yourself to someone until the day you die,” Alice nodded, her gaze shifting over to William.

“Yes, I want to make sure Pero means what he is asking. Lord Richard has become… more intense in recent days,” you weren’t going to worry Alice with the details, “and I must be sure Pero didn’t ask just to get him off my back.” 

“Oh, I should not worry about that, _Milady_ ,” you frowned at Alice, who had spoken your title with amusement, “he keeps looking at you as though you were the one who had hung the stars in the sky,” she explained, and you refrained from looking over to see what she meant, directing your attention back to your work. 

“Do not be silly,” you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, and your traitorous heart skipped a beat at the thought of Pero looking at you like that. 

“William says he never stops talking about you. Admitted to him the other night that he would stay for you.”

“Stay for me?” You asked, your voice betraying your hope. 

“Yes. He would settle in this little village, in the middle of nowhere, for you.” 

“And William?” 

Alice giggled, her eyes never straying from her love. You risked a glance at her and saw a twinkle in her eye. You could see the love she had for William on her face. 

“I think he wants to stay,” she sounded shy and it made you smile, “he may be more persuaded if his favourite Spaniard had a reason to stay too.”

You scoffed and muttered, “favourite Spaniard.” Alice giggled again. “Have you heard those two bicker with one another?”

“Yes! Just the other day Pero was telling William off for the way he was chopping up wood,” Alice struggled to recount the tale through her laughter. 

“Why does the way wood is chopped matter?”

“Exactly! Apparently he was chopping it too small for the hearth, but William insisted it was just fine. They were arguing for near an hour!”

You caught her infectious laughter and had to pause in your sewing to calm yourself down. You wanted more of this, you thought. You wanted to laugh with Alice about your respective loves, you wanted the men’s bickering to amuse you. You wanted it all. And suddenly you weren’t worried about the future if this was it. 

Once the laughter had dissolved and the sewing was finished, you held it up for Alice’s inspection. 

“Beautiful,” she concluded, taking it from your hand and folding it in her lap. 

“Do you think my father will approve?” You ventured. Alice was the only other person who really knew your father.

“He may be taken aback at first. Pero may need to prove himself. But your father wants your happiness, is all.” Alice placed her hand on top of yours, smiling pleasantly. 

“Thank you,” you replied. You sought out Pero in amongst the village people and spotted him frowning furiously at something William had said. You chuckled at that, and as though your voice had carried to him, Pero looked at you, frown dissipating immediately, a small smirk appearing in its place. 

You knew exactly what your answer was going to be. 

-

Pero and William spent the rest of the day fixing up roofs and making friends with the villagers. It wasn’t until supper that you found yourself a moment with Pero.

Alice and William were, hopefully, preparing dinner in the kitchen whilst you and Pero set the dining table for the four of you. The quiet between you wasn’t awkward, but Pero was waiting for you to talk first. 

“I have been thinking it over,” you began, focusing on wiping the table.

“And what conclusion have you come to?” There was a timid edge to his voice that you hadn’t heard before. He was nervous, afraid of your answer and what would become of the two of you if you chose not to marry him. 

“Marrying you would be an honour.” Pero fumbled with the spoon in his hand, letting it clatter to the tabletop as he looked at you in mild disbelief. 

“Are you sure?”

You cocked your head to the side, amused at his humbleness. 

“Do you not think yourself worthy of me?” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Certainly not,” Pero walked around the table to stand in front of you, “I will never be good enough for you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to be.”

You smiled, gripping onto the lapels of his shirt to bring him forward for a kiss. You pulled away much too soon for Pero’s liking.

“I will speak to my father in the morning,” you spoke softly. Pero’s expression became more serious as he thought of Sir Edward.

“Will he give his blessing?” He looked nervous, distracting himself by playing with the ends of your hair.

“He will. You are the only man I have ever taken an interest in, he will probably be relieved,” you chuckled, taking his hands in your own to hold them to your chest.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You asked, still unsure whether you could please him for the rest of your lives. You were a simple woman in an unimportant village, there was nothing special about you. 

“Hermosa, you make my heart soar every time I see you. You are more brilliant and beautiful than you give yourself credit for,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

Your heart threatened to leap out of your breast, and so you stepped away, smiling bright and motioned for Pero to leave.

“Go and fetch William and Alice. We will tell them at supper.” 

Pero pulled you in for a passionate kiss that left you desperate for more, teasing you by pulling away too soon as you had done before, and left you with a smirk on his lips. 

You involuntarily giggled, slapping a hand over your mouth to quell the sound. You felt dizzy with happiness. Finally you were leaving Lord Richard behind you and looking to a future with a man who loved you. 

You busied yourself with the dining table, unable to school your facial features into something normal. You can imagine the teasing you were going to get from William and Alice. 

Just as you were polishing the final spoon you heard frantic knocking on the door of the manor. Hurrying over, you opened it to find a large man leaning heavily on the doorway, out of breath with sweat dripping off his forehead. You didn’t recognise him, he certainly wasn’t one of your villagers.

“Are you well?” Was your first question, the poor man looked exhausted. He shook his head and breathed in enough to speak urgently.

“There has been an accident, Milady, this side of the North road. Looks like a very important man inside, I could only guess that he was on his way here.”

Your breath stuttered with an intense fear that almost had you fainting. You were frozen in place but trying not to panic. You had dealt with emergencies in the village before, even Pero had told you how great you were at dealing with them, so why were your feet stuck to the ground? You wouldn’t allow yourself to think the worse but you _were_ because who else could the important person be? You thought about shouting for Pero but enough time was being wasted. 

You found your senses, pushed past the man and ran out towards the stables. You were panicking but it was what was urging you on to grab a horse and jump on.

You flew out of the village, the man you had left behind shouting after you to be careful, but you payed him no mind. You had to get to the carriage.

The air was clear which helped you to navigate in the creeping darkness of the evening. You tried to pick the best paths to the North road but you found yourself on a smaller forest road above the one the carriage was on. You could see it below you, the carriage was intact but the horses had fled whatever incident had occurred.

You jumped off your horse and as quick as the steep hill would allow, you clambered down and ran over to the carriage.

It was eerily quiet as you came to a stop. No wind rustled the branches of the trees, your own horse was deathly quiet as though she could sense your tension.

As you stepped around to the other side of the carriage you noticed a wheel had been broken on the outer rim, though there was nothing on the ground to tell you what it could have hit to cause such a break. 

You moved your gaze around the carriage until you came to the door. It was then that you saw a crimson stain in the gap at the bottom of the door. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears as you moved closer, a shaky hand reaching forward to clasp the handle. You took a deep breath, slowly and carefully unhooked the latch and pulled. 

-

“What do you mean she took off? Did you not think to stop her?” Pero was furiously questioning the strange man at the door, holding him up by his collar against the wall outside. 

“I- I tried, she wasn’t listening!” The terrified man stumbled over his words.

“Pero, let the man go and get after her!” William shouted from where he was hurrying over to Pero, the reins of a saddled up horse in his hand.

“If anything has happened to her you are a dead man,” Pero warned, the enraged look on his face let the man know that he was being serious. 

Pero shoved the man into the wall and ran over to throw his legs over his horse, turning away and galloping as fast as the horse could.

His mind was spinning with worry. What were you thinking riding into the forest on your own? Why didn’t you at least shout for him to accompany you? If you acted like this in marriage you were going to put him into an early grave, his old heart wouldn’t be able to take the stress. 

He didn’t know where he was going, deciding his best bet was to follow the edge of the forest and keep to the main roads. It wasn’t long before he found your horse, on her own, walking just inside the forest. Pero pulled his horse to a slow trot, observing your horse to see no injuries that could explain what had happened.

Pero was truly frightened now. He wanted to begin the rest of his life with you, wanted to marry you and love you, fill the manor with your children, and all of that looked to be hanging by a thread now. You were alone in nothing but a day dress, in a dark, cold forest without a horse to take you back home, back to him. 

He felt a sob rising up but he swallowed it down. He wasn’t giving up. There had to be a reason why you had come out here. The man at the door mentioned an accident? Did you really come all the way out here because of duty and kindness? 

Pero finally saw the carriage at the top of the road and pushed his horse into a gallop to reach it. As he slowed down he heard the heartbreaking sounds of your sobbing. Jumping from his horse, Pero rushed over to the side of the carriage.

He saw your feet first, peaking out of the carriage door, boots covered in what he knew instantly was blood. He knew the shine of it, the metallic smell of it that he could taste in the air. He crept forward, not wanting to startle you, to see you sitting on the floor of the carriage, head in the lap of a man he realised was your father.

His face was ashen, but it’s not what Pero noticed first. It was the pool of blood that led up to a knife that was still protruding out of Sir Edward’s chest that caught his attention. That and your weeping. Your voice was hoarse, the weeping nothing but soft sobs out of exhaustion. It shattered Pero’s composure. 

“Darling,” he whispered, resting a hand gently on your knee to let you know he was there, you weren’t alone even if you felt it in this moment. 

This seemed to set you off again, body shaking from the effort of crying.

“Pero,” your voice was pleading, desperate for him to do something, to fix this, as your friend, your future husband. Why couldn’t he put this right for you?

Pero choked on the lump in his throat and decided he needed to hold you. You couldn’t bring your father back, oh how he wished he could, but he could show you he was here for you in your darkest hour. He took you by the forearms and gently pulled you out of the carriage.

It looked as though you were going to fight him at first, there was panic in your eyes and your body went rigid with shock, but you were holding onto something that had been in your father’s lap, and once you had a grip on it, you allowed Pero to pull you away into his arms.

Your body relaxed to the point Pero was having to hold you up, the fight leaving you as soon as you realised there was nothing more to be done for your father. He pulled your face into the crook of his neck and let you cry. His fingers stroked your hair, your back, always soft. His voice hummed and whispered soothing words. You felt safe in his arms but broken in this world that had cruelly taken your father from you.


	7. Part VII - Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will it be a happily ever after? (Yes, it will).

The funeral had been a larger affair than you had anticipated. The church in the town conducted the ceremony, with Lords and Ladies from neighbouring towns and villages attending, as well as your own villagers. But the only person who mattered was Pero, who stood by your side throughout it all, despite the strange looks in his direction from the nobility. 

You gripped his hand during the lowering of your father into the ground, trying to hold onto some semblance of normality and calm. That was the only moment of the day that was clear, everything else was blurry, your mind a fog of despair. People tried talking to you but you didn’t hear what they were saying. William asked you something at one point but Pero had to answer for you. The priest tried to engage you in a conversation about God and where your father was heading next but you just didn’t care. You couldn’t get the image of your father’s dead and bloodied body out of your mind, that was the only place you could imagine your father. 

As the day came to an end, and everybody was leaving, you headed towards your Manor, Pero hot on your heels, as William and Alice went about cooking something for your supper. You hadn’t eaten all day, the thought made you feel sick, but you knew your friends wouldn’t let you go to bed without seeing you try to eat something. 

You headed straight to your father’s private room, where Pero and William had resumed their sleeping arrangements. Until the funeral, you had needed to feel as though nothing was amiss. That your whole world hadn’t fallen apart when you found that carriage, so you had insisted on sleeping in your own bed with your comforts and the familiarity that came with it. 

Pero hurried ahead of you into the room and pulled across the armchair to place it in front of the fire for you. You took a seat, gazing into the empty fireplace as Pero began the process of lighting the fire.

“What can I do?” He asked, concentrating on his task as you watched him. You knew he wasn’t just asking about the fire, or even this evening, but in general. What did you need from him? How could he be of service to you? 

You hadn’t thought about his marriage proposal since the night of your father’s death, too preoccupied with grieving. And Pero never spoke of it either, it wasn’t appropriate and he didn’t want you to think he was pressuring you. He wasn’t even sure you still wanted to marry him, not now you had to face the reality of being the head of the house. 

Your father had prepared you well as you got older, sharing the records books, letting you in on the wealth that came with the house and the lands, and how to look after your villagers as was your duty. So it wasn’t that you were unprepared, you just didn’t think you would have to take on the mantle of Lady of the Manor so soon. 

Pero brought over the second armchair and sat facing you, hoping you would speak to him. The flames of the fire were growing in height, and the smell of burning wood was hitting your nostrils pleasantly. It was relaxing, and eased the tension you had been holding all day. 

“You are doing more than enough,” you assured him through a croaky voice, hoarse from not speaking, the only sound you had made for days were sobs in the privacy of your room. 

Pero shifted in his seat uncomfortably, not agreeing with your statement. He wanted to do more but he didn’t know how. His own grief usually came in the form of pushing everybody away from him, keeping them at arms length so they never witnessed his emotions, but he didn’t want that for you. He needed you to know he was here with open arms, if you would only look at him and see. 

“I am here,” Pero insisted, leaning forward and placing a hand on your knee, “you can let me in.”

As soon as you looked into his pleading eyes the dam broke, your lips wobbled and you took huge shuddering breaths before the tears flowed and you were sobbing in front of him. 

Pero kneeled in front of you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into an embrace as you cried. He held you tight, an unwavering presence all around you as you let out a weeks worth of grief and sorrow into the crook of his neck. 

You were sat like that until Pero’s knees began to go numb, and he had to pull back with an apologetic, tight lipped smile.

“Come, _hermosa_ ,” he whispered softly. Pero leaned back against the front of his armchair and pulled you down to sit between his legs on the fur rug, the warmth of the fire enveloping the two of you. 

You had finally calmed down enough to breathe steadily, listening to the rise and fall of Pero’s chest where you rested your head. 

“Do you think _he_ did it?” You asked, feeling Pero suck in a breath, not expecting that to be your first question. You had your suspicions who had killed your father, but you needed to know what Pero thought, if he had enough experience in that dark, grim world to know who could have murdered Edward. 

“I do not think he did it by his own hand, no,” Pero replied carefully, but it was confirmation that you needed; it was Lord Richard’s doing, even if he wasn’t the one wielding the knife, he was behind it. 

“ _Mi amor_ , he will never bother you again,” Pero promised, a hardened edge to his tone. You didn’t ask what he meant, only that you could trust his word. On a normal day that may have put your mind at rest, but not this day. 

You turned in his arms to face him, a sad smile on your face. 

“I was so happy that night,” you began with a lump in your throat, referring to the evening you agreed to marry him, just before you found your father in the carriage, “I was imagining our future, my father giving me away, calling you my _husband_.” You squeezed your eyes shut to stop the tears from falling, Pero’s hands reaching up to hold your face gently.

“We can forget about that,” Pero’s sincerity warmed your heart, but you shook your head as much as you could with his hands holding you still.

“I will _not_ let that wretched man ruin another thing in my life,” you frowned, frustration building up at the thought of something good being prevented by Lord Richard. “I want to marry you. We will need to wait a little longer, but I do still want to be your wife.”

Pero’s lips curled up into a smile and he nodded in agreement. 

“I am not going anywhere, mi amor. When you are ready, I will be waiting.” He guided your head down to rest on his shoulder, holding you safely in his arms. 

-

The days following the funeral were busy for you and Pero. It didn’t take much convincing to persuade him to follow you around as you conducted business, but you had an ulterior motive other than safety. Pero needed to know the ins and outs of running land. As your husband, he would have duties and responsibilities and although you would do most of the work, to the relief of Pero, it was daunting to think of doing all of it yourself. He would pick it up slowly, you didn’t want to scare him off, and he seemed to be taking it all in his stride as you walked around the village, but when it came to showing him the records books he tensed. 

“I know it is a lot to take in. I appreciate you trying for me,” you smiled and placed your hand on top of his where it rested on the desk. 

Pero looked away from you, embarrassment overtaking his features as his eyes flicked towards the door of the room, on the edge of his flight or fight response, and it was then that you realised what the issue was. You turned in your seat to give him your full attention, placed your hand on his cheek and encouraged him to look at you.

“Can you not read?” You asked gently, no sign of judgment or surprise in your tone. Pero shook his head.

“I have never needed to,” he mumbled, running a hand down his face as he struggled to shake off how uncomfortable he felt. He knew you wouldn’t think differently of him, but in his eyes it was yet another reminder of why he wasn’t worthy to marry you. 

To his surprise you smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the corner of his mouth.

“Pero, you need never feel ashamed around me. Would you like me to teach you?”

Pero shrugged, the idea of learning something new so late in life gave him a feeling of dread. 

“I can count, is that not enough?” You nodded, closing the records book with a _thwump_. 

“I am speaking with the priest in the morning. Would you like to come?” You asked, eager to change the subject so he felt more comfortable.

Pero intertwined his hand with yours, resting them on his knee as he spoke. “I will go wherever you go.”

“I am going to talk to him about marrying you,” your smile was hopeful and happy just speaking about it, Pero could imagine how much you would be positively _glowing_ on the day. 

“What is there to talk about?” He asked, confused. He had no idea how these things happened, he had never even been invited to a wedding before.

“We have to ask his permission to marry first, but do not worry, it is rare that a couple is turned away. And we need to know when he is free to perform the ceremony.”

“The sooner the better,” Pero interrupted, looking apprehensive as he realised what he said. You chuckled, nodding in agreement. 

“You are so _sure_ he will give his blessing? I am but a commoner and you a Lady.”

“He and my father were friends, as long as you impress him with your manners all shall be well.”

Pero raised an eyebrow, sceptical that he could impress anybody with his _lack of_ manners. _I will practice over supper_ , he thought. 

You saw the worry in the crease of his brow and reached up with your free hand to rub it away with your thumb. The action brought a sigh out of Pero who encircled your wrist with his fingers and guided you to place a kiss on the palm of your hand. 

“Please, do not worry about anything my love, I have it all under control,” you promised and saw the worry melt away from his face almost immediately. 

“You are perfect,” Pero whispered into your hand, meaning it with all his heart. 

-

Later that evening Pero found you in your room, an object in your hand as you leant against the wall next to your window. Your gaze was outside where the children were being rounded up by tired parents, your features relaxed but your mind a million miles away. Pero stood in the doorway, not wanting to step inside without your permission. He cleared his throat, which caught your attention.

“Are you well?” Pero asked, concern lacing his voice. 

“Quite well,” you replied sincerely, pulling the object that Pero could now see was a small book to your chest. You saw Pero’s focus on the book and turned it around to show him the cover. Pero used that as permission to step into your room to take a closer look. There was a illustration of a King on a throne, a sceptre in one hand and a crown in the other.

“What is it about?” Pero asked in interest, maybe he would ask you to read it to him some time.

“It is a poem about a King who goes on a quest to become a thief who steals from the rich and gives to the poor,” you explained, a faint wisp of a smile on your lips as you thought of the story. 

“Could the King not just give his wealth away to the poor?” Pero asked, a glint of teasing in his eyes and a quirk to his lips. You huffed out a laugh, nodding.

“Yes, probably, but it is a tale my father would use to remind me that yes, I could just give away money and wish the problems away, but it is wiser to understand the minds of the poor and what they are thinking and feeling. That is the only way I will truly be able to help people.” You stared down at the book in your hand and turned it over to the back cover where the cracks in the leather were permanently stained crimson, a constant reminder of your father’s demise. 

“My father brought it back from London,” you whispered, and Pero understood, remembering how you were holding an object in your hand when he had pulled you away from Sir Edward’s body in the carriage. It was this book. 

Pero placed a hand on the side of your face, tilting it up until you were looking at him.

“It was his last gift to you, to remind you to be yourself, always. That way you can never go wrong,” Pero stroked away the tear that fell down your cheek, pressing a kiss in its place, and then another between your burrowed brows. 

“I feel unprepared. There wasn’t enough time for my father to teach me everything,” the fear of failure was in your heart, constricting it painfully at the thought of disappointing your father. Pero frowned, confused at the lack of self belief you had for yourself.

“You forget that I have been watching you run this village for weeks now. You have never needed anyone to tell you what to do, and I suspect it was the same when your father was alive.” Pero’s confidence in you wasn’t surprising, but it helped to ease the worries in your mind. 

“I have you,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You have a whole village, _mi amore_.” 

-

The dress you wore had been your mothers. It was different shades of green and billowed out from the waist so it floated when you walked, gold thread created patterns of flowers and birds along the hem of the skirt which travelled up the left side until it ended at the hip. Alice had arranged a small bundle of flowers and tied them with string for you to hold, which you clasped in your hand as she looked you over one last time.

“You always look beautiful but now…” Alice couldn’t finish her words through teary eyes and a watery smile. You chuckled and pulled her into a hug, despite protests of ruining your dress.

“Alice, my favourite companion and closest confidante,” that brought out a laugh in your friend, “thank you for being so special.”

You pulled back, leaving your hands on her shoulders as you took her in. She was wearing her best dress, a pretty yellow that made her glow in the sunshine. You wiped away the tears as they fell down her cheeks.

“Come, we cannot be late to my own wedding.” You smiled warmly, feeling the fluttering of excitable butterflies in your belly. You lead the way through the manor, out the door and down towards the small church on the edge of the village. 

Pero was already waiting at the door of the church, William stood by his side. The closer you got to them the clearer it was that Pero was nervous. He kept smoothing down the front of his tunic and rolling onto the backs of his heals, to which William elbowed him in the ribs and whispered something in his ear. 

Once you were stood in front of Pero, you handed Alice your flowers and took both of Pero’s hands in your own, soothingly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. It helped to relax his nervous twitching and encouraged him to focus on only you. You smiled sweetly, reassuring him that you had no doubts, that this was going ahead because you _wanted_ to marry him. 

Although these ceremonies are usually not fussed over, you spied out the corner of your eye a number of villagers congregating at a distance to watch. Your eyes caught on the happy family of Marion and her young boy Henry who you had helped pull out of the well. He waved at you enthusiastically and you smiled back at him. 

The door to the church opened and the priest walked out, bible in hand and went straight into the ceremony.

You looked at Pero the entire time, your smile brightening whenever the priest spoke about you spending the rest of your lives together. Pero relaxed as soon as he blocked the priest out and concentrated on you, how angelic you looked, the dress that hugged your body, your warm hands holding his with care and love. He realised he was happiest when he was ignoring the whole world, when there was only you. 

You gave him your father’s ring, carefully slipping it onto his finger. It was the only time you felt a pang of hurt as you hoped he was watching this moment, proud and content that you had found someone to spend your life with. Pero placed your mother’s ring on your finger, which had been sat in a box getting dusty since she had died, waiting for the day you married. It had a single stone that sparkled in the sunlight and you cherished the memories of it shining on your mother’s hand when you were a little girl. 

Pero breathed much easier when it was finished. William clapped him on the back in congratulations and the villagers cheered in celebration. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips that were struggling not to beam with happiness. 

“It is done, you can relax now,” you chuckled, not at all offended at how uncomfortable he was.

“I hate being watched like this,” he grumbled, huffing out a laugh as he spared a look over to the villagers.

“Let us go and eat, that will take your mind off it,” you linked your arm with his and led him into the village where the celebrations continued. 

-

Pero leaned back against the closed door of you bedroom, a look of reverence on his face as he watched you slip the dress off your shoulders, that one you had married him in, the material floating to the floor and leaving you in a sheer underdress that left little to the imagination. 

A sigh of awe escaped Pero’s lips as he raked his eyes up and down your form. You were beautiful, breathtaking, and all his. He was being patient, letting you take the lead, not only because it was your first time but he was desperate to make this last as long as possible. He was going to make love for the first time. This wasn’t a quickie with a friend to scratch an itch, or something paid for in a brothel, this was _love_ and he wanted it slow and time stopping. 

The longer he stood there staring, the more you were growing impatient, and maybe a little self-conscious. It was love and lust you saw in his eyes, you had no doubt of that, but you didn’t really know what you were doing, had heard stories, not all good, from women in the village about what to expect on your wedding night and you couldn’t help but hear them in the back of your mind as you saw the bed out of the corner of your eye. 

Pero saw your hesitation and stepped forward, his hands running soothingly up and down the outside of your arms, pausing at your shoulders. 

“You can stop this at any time. There is no need to lie with me just because it is our wedding night,” Pero assured you, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

“I want to, I promise,” you assured him, because you did want this, you wanted to be his wife in every way. 

“You have heard stories, yes?” You nodded and saw Pero frown. “It should be nothing but pleasurable. If it is not, then I have not done my job as your loving husband.”

You took a deep breath, taking in his words, trusting in his experience and, more importantly, his love for you. 

“Would you like for me to take the lead now?” He asked kindly and you nodded, biting your lip in anticipation as he carefully walked you backwards. The back of your legs hit something, and Pero guided you to sit on the edge of the bed.

Pero pulled off his tunic first, revealing his strong shoulders, a light scattering of hair across his broad chest. He had developed a soft belly since coming to the village, from lack of fighting and regular food, you felt yourself wanting to reach out and run your fingers over it. So you found the courage and did so. You started in the middle of his chest, feeling the muscle underneath and then moved the pads of your fingers down slowly, lightly scraping your nails against the skin of his belly and following the trail of hair that stopped at the top of his breeches. 

You looked up at him to see him watching you, a pleasant smile on his lips, and gave you a nod to encourage you to continue. You untied the knot of his breeches, pulling on the thread at each hole to loosen them up. As the material became lax you began to see Pero’s growing bulge more prominently, the reality of what was happening hit you differently then. Instead of being scared, you felt yourself wetting your lips and getting impatient with the ties that weren’t loosening quick enough. 

Pero helped you by pushing his breeches past his hips, you aided him in pulling them down his legs to the shoes still on his feet. His cock sprung free, thick and veiny and lighter than you imagined considering his golden skin tone. 

“ _Mi amor_ ,” your head shot up in surprise, his soft tone loud in the heated atmosphere of the room, “as my wife you can do anything you wish,” he insisted. He could see the cogs turning in your mind as you stared, as though you weren’t sure of what you could and couldn’t do. He knew you would get more confident in time, but he couldn’t wait until you were uninhibited, your touches second nature instead of carefully thought out. 

He held his breath as he saw your hand reach out towards his cock, slow and unsure as your hand wrapped around the middle. Your thumb stroked at the sensitive skin, the velvety texture was pleasant, the weight solid and heavy. Your hand was slightly too loose as you moved your hand up and down his shaft, but when you flicked the tip with your thumb Pero let out a delightful hiss that made you smile, pride welling up in your chest. You did it again and Pero’s hips jutted forwards, his tip leaking pre cum that aided you in pumping his cock quicker. 

As much as he was enjoying your exploring, he had to stop you with a hand on yours, prying it away. 

“We will not get to your pleasure if you keep doing that,” Pero explained, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that reassured you. He pulled back and got to work removing the rest of his clothes. You took the opportunity to manoeuvre yourself on the bed, placing your head on the pillows, hands playing with the fabric of your nightdress.

Pero climbed onto the bed next to you, the warmth radiating off him a soothing tonic to the nerves vibrating just under your skin. He slowly pulled at the strings at the front of your dress that ended at your belly button, before pulling the fabric open to reveal your breasts, the nipples erect, goosebumps prickling the skin all around them. 

Pero smirked at the sight, his thumb swiping the bud of your left breast, making you gasp at the sensation. He kept doing that, turning to the breast closest to him and deciding to lean down and take the nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking greedily. You whined, your hips occasionally bucking up, your body wanting something more but your mind not knowing what. Your hand automatically came up to grip at his short hair, your chest rising for more of his tongue, to which he responded by pulling back until he wasn’t touching you at all.

You threw him a disgruntled look which made him chuckle, your impatience humouring him. 

“Do you want me to take off your dress now?” He asked, already knowing the answer but wanting you to say it. When you nodded your head he shook his, moving to straddle your legs. “I cannot hear you, _hermosa_ ,” he teased.

“Take off my dress,” you ordered with as much authority as you could whilst your body thrummed with desire. You didn’t have to have experience in the bedroom to know he was deliberately riling you up, the grin on his face telling you as much. 

“Yes, Milady,” he replied, a husky edge to his voice, and began bunching up your dress from the hem, slowly dragging the material over your skin, revealing yourself to him like a gift. He paid extra attention around your breasts, rubbing the fabric delightfully over your nipples a few times, causing you to bite your lip and arch your back. When he reached your neck you lifted your head and arms to aid him in pulling the dress off. 

You imagined being naked in front of Pero would be daunting but it wasn’t. It was satisfying almost, as he looked down at your body as though you were a perfect painting and he touched your soft skin with rough hands, moving them along your breasts and across your ribs and kneading the softness of your belly before gripping your hips, any lingering worries about this night disappeared. You were in good hands. 

“Are you still good?” Pero leaned up and spoke them against your lips, his nose rubbing along yours.

“More than good, I feel so very loved,” you admitted honestly, closing the distance to kiss Pero to demonstrate how you felt. He licked into your mouth, gliding his tongue with yours whilst gently hooking a hand under your knee to spread your legs and place himself between them. You let him open you up, finding a comfortable position to rest your legs and keeping them bent as he pulled away. 

“I am going to make you feel even better now, _mi amore_ , but you can still stop me, at any point,” he assured you, waiting for you to nod your assent before he began to crawl down your body, leaving sweet kisses in his wake until he was met with your mound. 

Pero noted with a groan that you were already shining with wetness at your opening. He was desperate to dive straight in, enjoy himself like he would enjoy a feast at a banquet table, but he forced his mind to stop racing with images of what he wanted to do to you, reminding himself to be slow and patient. 

Pero sat back on his knees and turned his attentions to the inside of your thighs, pressing kisses to the delicate skin, nipping at it the closer he got to where you wanted him most, sucking dark bruises that he would be able to spy for days to come. It made your body shiver, the tickling of his moustache adding to the feeling that your body was building up to something, like a cooking pot simmering with bubbling water about to boil over. 

When he had paid equal amounts of attention to both thighs, he pushed your legs to your chest, keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs to keep you in place. 

You gasped when you felt Pero’s tongue press against your entrance, the feeling unfamiliar and strange but not entirely unpleasant. He licked to begin with, spreading your wetness around, exploring the feeling of your lips, the prickles of the coarse hair along the outside. He bit lightly at the thicker skin, alternating between licking up your juices and sucking at the juncture of your thighs, moving higher until he got to the swollen bud at the top. When Pero enclosed his mouth around your clit and sucked your hips rocked up, a whine spilling from your mouth at the spark of heat that shot through your entire lower body. Pero held you down, continuing his ministrations the more you squirmed and pulled at the sheets you held in a tight grip. 

You were soon chanting his name, panting desperately with pleasure as Pero seemed to overwhelm each of your senses. Your body arched up against him as you reached your orgasm, body shuddering and tensing from how _incredible_ you felt. You heard Pero mumble in Spanish, the sound vibrating against your sensitive area before pulling away to look up at you.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead and your body was covered in a sheen of sweat that hadn’t been there before he had gone down on you. He lowered your legs to rest them, the tension that had been there already causing an ache across your thighs. 

Pero’s kisses up your body were more forceful than before, leaving bite marks until he reached your neck and sucked a dark mark. In this position you could feel his cock, hot and hard as it rested on your belly. When you finally looked up having caught your breath, you saw his brows pinched together in concentration and realised he was holding back for you. You took the initiative and wrapped your legs around his waist, a sign that you were ready. 

“I can wait,” he reassured you, receiving a confident grin. A burst of excitement rushed through you as you thought that this was it, you were going to make love to your husband for the first time. Pero had treated you so well, shown you pleasures you had never dreamed of, and now it was time to allow him the same.

“Please, Pero,” you pleaded, kissing him softly as you urged him with your feet on his back to lower himself down.

Pero reached down and swiped his hand around in your wetness, making you gasp and buck your hips. He used it to lubricate himself, and taking his cock in hand he guided it to your entrance and slowly pushed in. There was little resistance much to his relief, making you cum had given him easy enough access, but the unusual feeling made you clench without realising.

“Relax my love, you are doing so well,” he assured you, whispering with his forehead against yours. Your eyes were closed, concentrating on the feeling of fullness that came with the stretch of his cock in the tightness of your opening. It didn’t hurt, as he had promised, it was overwhelming but _so good_. Addictive even. You wondered if he could stay seated in you forever and instantly felt silly for thinking it. You let out a breath and felt your body loosening up with it, your body relaxing into the bed as his hips met yours. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you, a boyish smile on his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, trying not to chuckle at the sight. You weren’t meant to laugh in your marriage bed, were you? You had never heard of such a thing. It was serious what you were doing, not funny, wasn’t it? 

“You feel so wonderful, _hermosa_ ,” Pero whispered, kissing your lips tenderly, “how do you feel?”

“I never want to leave this bed,” you admitted, earning you a chuckle from Pero that was instantly mirrored by your own. Your hands moved up to rest on his shoulders as his arms moved to a more comfortable position on your pillows, caging you into his body, like wrapping you up in a comforting hug. It made you feel safe, everything was _Pero_ , the bedroom disappearing from view. 

Pero proceeded to pull out until just the tip of his cock was left inside, the drag was teasing and delicious against your inner walls, and then he pushed all the way in again, your mouth opening in a silent cry of pleasure. 

He rocked into you like that, not fast but not agonisingly slow either, just nice enough to get used to the stretch and the feeling of him hitting something deep within you that sent sparks throughout your body. Pero turned his head into the crook of your neck, panting and grunting against your skin. He picked up the pace eventually, making you gasp and whine loudly. You never once cared if anyone could hear you, let them, you thought, let them know how well your husband pleases you because this was nothing like what you had been told. This was floating on a cloud, your body light and free and buzzing with energy, your mind clear of anything but _Pero Pero Pero_ with every beat of his hips and cock. 

You didn’t realise your nails were digging into his shoulders until you went to move your hands and noticed you were scratching him. You lifted his head from your shoulder and crashed your lips to his, messy and desperate, you gasping into his mouth and him groaning into yours. He pulled away and leaned straight up on his knees, pushing your legs outwards and spreading them out as much as they would go. The angle hit differently then, his cock feeling longer somehow, making you cry out in surprise. In this position Pero was looking down at you, watching every buck of your hips, arch of your back, clench of your eyes closed when it got too much, he had never seen you more beautiful. 

He knew you were close again when you clenched around him hard and your cries were becoming incoherent, no longer able to finish saying his name. Pero increased his speed and pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing in circles to bring you to the edge. With one final shout of his name, you came hard, clenching his cock in a vice-like grip that had him swearing in his native tongue. He rocked you through your come down shortly before he felt his balls tightening and with a deep thrust he was coming inside you. You felt him fill you up, a satisfyingly warm feeling that made you instinctively squeeze and milk his cock for all he could give you. 

Pero collapsed on top of you, a comforting weight that brought sighs of relief out of both of you. You didn’t want him to get up or stop touching you so intimately. You knew he would have to at some point, after all you felt sticky and sweaty and you didn’t want to sleep like that, but you would hold him to you for the time being. You wrapped your legs and arms around him as you both fought to get your breaths back. 

His hands were stroking whichever bit of skin he was touching, he didn’t know where, he just needed to be comforted with the feel of you all around him. His cock was still seated inside you, twitching with sensitivity and desperately wanting to go another round, make this last all night. He wanted to bring you pleasure in all the ways he knew how, and ways he didn’t. When you were both clean and settling into bed, with you curled into his body and his arms holding you tight to his chest, he would remember that he had the rest of his life to do just that.


End file.
